Nothing Gold Can Stay
by xlightmycandlex
Summary: Enjolras is in denial about his health. Once he is finally convinced to go to the doctors the news is not what anyone expected to hear. There will be an appearance of Enjolras's father in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Mr. Victor Hugo

* * *

Enjolras knew something was wrong.

It started with the fatigue. Halfway through a meeting of the Les Amis, he had to resist the urge to not sit down and take a breather. But he was their leader, their revolutionary. He couldn't afford to be tired. When he came close to even considering the thought, he could almost hear the cynical comments Grantaire would toss his way. Something along the lines of how could he lead their group into a triumph if he couldn't even finish the speech he had written.

Then there were the nosebleeds. They were few at first, easy to blame on the change in weather. But then gradually they started occurring about twice a week. So often in fact Enjolras started carrying a few extra handkerchiefs in his coat pocket.

The most concerning development however were the number of bruises he would find all over his body when he would dress in the morning or take a shower. Enjolras knew about bruises. He'd been given enough by his father to last a life time. By the time he was fifteen, Enjolras became an expert at hiding his bruises (even if it meant dabbing into his mother's make up), but at _least_ he had known where _those_ bruises had come from. These ones seemed to pop out of his skin like hives.

And that is exactly what Enjolras was doing on that Monday morning before class; examining a new bruise-and a rather large one-near his ribs

"Wow!" Combeferre said, making Enjolras jump. His roommate's image appeared behind him in the bathroom mirror, "How in the world did you get that?"

"Courfeyrac was clowning around," Enjolras said quickly, the lie rolling of his tongue with ease (after all Enjolras was a pro at lying about his bruises), "He tried to spar with me, and ended up shoving me into a table."

"Geez." Combeferre said, getting out his toothbrush, "I must have missed that. He really has to be more careful. We can't let our leader being broken before the rally in a few days."

"Yeah." Enjolras mumbled, putting on his shirt as quickly and as carefully as he could. "I'll try to stay in one piece until then."

"We better get you some coffee then." Combeferre joked smoothing down his short hair with a comb. It was a well known fact between the two that Enjolras couldn't function without his coffee.

"I'm ready when you are." Enjolras said, leaning against the door, secretly glad for the moment of calm.

"Come on, let's get your vice." Combeferre teased gently brushing past Enjolras.

Enjolras sighed, did his best to shake off the feeling of tiredness he could feel already overtaking him, and followed his roommate out the door.

* * *

About ten minutes later the two roommates reached Café Musain. Most of their friends were there already, including Courtfeyrac who came up and poked Enjolras hard in the side, making him jump, and causing Combeferre to frown at him.

"You're too rough sometimes." Combeferre said, shaking his head before making a beeline out the door. Combeferre was never late to class.

Courtfeyrac who never really paid mind to anyones scolding just shrugged and shook his head before bouncing off to bother Marius, who was struggling to carry his coffee and his girlfriend Cosettes.

After glancing at the clock on the wall and Enjolras realized he had about ten minutes to kill before class. Glad for the break, he sat down at en empty seat at the table his friends consistently occupied. He was pulling out his textbook to read ahead a little when Joly, a friend and a medical student who felt as though he already had his license, leaned over and felt his forehead.

"Joly, get off." Enjolras batted his friends hand away from his forehead, "What are you doing?"

"You look pale." Joly answered, "And you look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Enjolras shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "I'm fine."

"Have you been sleeping well?" Joly pushed, "Going to bed at a decent hour?"

"Joly." Enjolras said, doing his best not to show his annoyance and perhaps his own concern, "I'm fine."

"Well, come to me if you feel worse. I might be able to prescribe something for you."

"I'll keep that in mind." Enjolras muttered. He felt his frustration flicker slightly at the sound of a snicker Grantaire gave from across the table. Enjolras shook off the wave of nausea that had just hit him, and headed off to class, grateful to avoid the list of things Joly would insist he might be having/catching/going to get.


	2. Chapter 2

There were times where Combeferre couldn't believe the man who spoke so eloquently to those around him was his roommate. He'd heard Enjolras been described by others (mainly Grantaire when he thinks no one can hear him) as a god. As he watched Enjolras share the outline of his speech on creating more opportunities for the disabled he could see it, that godlike presence. Whenever Enjolras was excited about a topic his eyes would glow and voice would rise and soar as if he was singing. Combeferre sometimes felt that even those who were miles away could hear his roommate's words.

Combeferre was one of the only people that knew behind those eyes that shine so bright was a world of pain. His own eyes suddenly met with Courfeyrac who gave him a slight wink and a goofy grin. Courfeyrac too knew of Enjolras's pain. The three had grown up together. Combeferre, always the observer, noticed even from a young age, Enjolras was covered in bruises. For a long time he just chalked it up to the rough and tumble life of boyhood. After all, the three of them weren't exactly known for their stillness or their sainthood.

It was Courfeyrac who actually found the truth...

The three of them were around thirteen and had just spent a long day finishing the fort they had been building for a few weeks. Courfeyrac had just finished nailing the final section of the roof when Enjolras had made some type of smart comment about Courfeyrac's size (he was always quite tall for his age) finally being good for something. Courfeyrac who faked a loud laugh had jumped down from the roof, grabbed Enjolras by the tail of his shirt and proceeded to yank it over his head. He only had made it about halfway over Enjolras's head when he suddenly froze. Combeferre did not think he would ever forget the look that was on their normally jocular friends face.

"Holy shit." He said releasing Enjolras who quickly yanked his shirt back into place, "What the hell happened to you man?"

"Don't worry about it." Enjolras spat, who was now red in the face.

"What are you talking about?" Combeferre asked. He had not any idea why Courfeyrac was as white as a ghost or what had Enjolras so livid.

"His back…" Courfeyrac said, practically stammering over the words, "Ferre…His back is full of bruises and welts."

"Let me see." Combeferre said instantly. He could feel his heart begin to race.

"No." Enjolras folded his arms tightly in front of him, and started to back up against a tree. "Leave it be."

"Let me see." Combeferre said again, more urgently. Without any word exchange between them the two friends managed to pin a squirming Enjolras to the tree. As Courfeyrac held him, Combeferre gingerly lifted Enjolras's shirt.

Combeferre couldn't help the gasp of shock that came out of his mouth. Enjolras's back was indeed covered in bruises. Well, bruises on top of bruises and welts on top of welts.

"I had to protect my mother." Enjolras finally blurted out. His two friends released him and Enjolras slid to the ground burying his face into his knees. His shoulders started to shake slightly and Combeferre's heart broke for his friend. He knelt down beside him, putting his hand on his shoulders. Suddenly everything made sense….Enjolras always making excuses why he didn't want to go home…..Enjolras jumping at the slightest mention of his father's name…the long sleeve shirts during the summer…

"So you're saying your father did this to you." Courfeyrac asked, his voice cutting through Combeferre's thoughts, shaking with rage.

"You can't tell anyone." Enjolras's looked up from his lap, his face streaked with tears. "He'll kill me. He said he'd kill me if I ever told anyone. You can't let him know you know. You can't tell anyone." Enjolras began to sound hysterical.

"Like hell I can't!" Courfeyrac snapped. "Your father's beating you, Enjolras!"

"He doesn't mean it." Enjolras pleaded. "I get in his way. I just piss him off. He tells me time and time again to get of his way. I—"

"I think you'd be in his way no matter where you were." Combeferre said softly. He motioned toward Courfeyrac who was pacing back and forth, grinding his fist into his other hand. "Let's talk about this."

Enjolras wiped his face on his sleeve. "You guys can't tell." He whispered. He suddenly sounded so tired.

"Well." Combeferre said, "Then if we aren't going to tell-which by the way-" He looked pointedly at Enjolras, "I think we should-we need a plan."

"For God sakes Combeferre," Courfeyrac snapped, "You can't create a scientific formula for this type of thing."

"Let's just start with this." Combeferre said, ignoring Courfeyrac, "I will always make sure to leave my window open at home. If you ever need to stay somewhere, you come to my place."

Enjolras nodded. Combeferre couldn't help but realize how small his friend suddenly looked.

"That's a start." Courfeyrac huffed. He sat down next to Enjolras and the three of them fell into silence. They stayed that way, side by side by side until nightfall.


	3. Chapter 3

"You guys ready for a night on the town?" Courfeyrac asked, bouncing into Combeferre and Enjolras's flat so quickly, he nearly caused Combeferre to drop the pot of coffee he had just made. The group of friends had decided earlier that day to go out and have a few drinks together. The hardly ever had the time since school started back up a few weeks ago and decided to take advantage of tomorrows holiday where there would be no classes.

"I'm ready." Combeferre said, putting the pot down, with a subtle wave at Grantaire who had snuck in behind Courfeyrac, "But Enjolras is still sleeping."

"Still sleeping!" Courfeyrac exclaimed. "What's he doing sleeping when we are ready to party?"

Combeferre had a feeling that Courfeyrac had already been partying. After all he had walked in with Grantaire, who was not exactly known for his sobriety. "I tried waking him a few times," Combeferre said, finally feeling safe enough to pore himself a cup of coffee, "But he wouldn't budge."

"You just weren't doing it right then," Courfeyrac exclaimed, "I can hear it now; Enjolras dear, wakey wakey. Come on little one, it's time to get up."

Combeferre frowned a bit at Courfeyrac's unrealistic portrayal of him. He had tried to wake Enjolras. Several times. "Well if you think you can do better by all means." He gestured toward the bedroom.

"Gladly." Combeferre smiled and practically dragged Grantaire down the hall behind him.

"Enjolras…." Courfeyrac whispered teasingly to the lump under the covers on the bed. He and Grantaire had in fact been drinking, "Enjolras, time to wake up." He looked back at Grantaire, who had stationed himself awkwardly in the doorway, "Enjolras," He began again, "The government has been overthrown by a mad man. We need you to wake up to save us all."

There was no stir at all from the bed. The only fact that convinced Grantaire that it was indeed Enjolras under the covers were the golden blonde curls cascading over one of the pillows.

"Well," Courfeyrac said, glancing at Grantaire and shrugging, "He can't say that he didn't ask for this." And with that Courfeyrac dove on the bed, and started making it shake and move. The only response he got was a small grunt from the curly haired blonde under the covers. Courfeyrac glanced back at Grantaire, grinned before he dug his fingers into what Grantaire guessed would be Enjolras's ribs. Enjolras sat up with a start.

"You're such an asshole, Courfeyrac." Enjolras snapped once he realized who had awakened him so suddenly. He threw the covers back over his head and curled up in a ball.

"Get up." Courfeyrac said, beginning to shake the bed again, not seeming to be insulted in the least by Enjolras's words, "We have women to meet. We need your pretty face there for them to talk to the rest of us." He then bounded back down the hallway, yelling to Combeferre he had woken "sleeping beauty."

"You okay?" Combeferre ask Enjolras once the four of them finally walked to the bar together, "It's not like you to sleep so soundly."

"Yeah," Enjolras said with a yawn, trying to push his golden locks back into their proper place, "I'm fine."

"If you want to go home I'll leave with you." Combeferre said, sounding a bit concern.

"I'm fine, _Mother_." Enjolras replied, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah," Courfeyrac said jumping up and down between them, "He's fine, Mommy." He grabbed Enjolras and shot into the bar, motioning for the other two to follow them. Once they were in the bar and the lighting was better Grantaire could see why Combeferre sounded so concern. Enjolras didn't look "fine". In fact he looked down right ill. His coloring which normally somehow gave off a golden glow was pale and chalky. His blue eyes looked dim, and if Grantaire didn't know any better he thought his god like friend might have lost some weight. Grantaire knew though it probably wasn't his place to question any of these things. After all the two of them didn't exactly have the best relationship. In fact, their relationship at times could be described as volatile. They viewed almost every topic differently. Sometimes he thought Enjolras just argued with him for the sake of arguing. Sometimes he felt he argued with Enjolras for the sake of arguing. Grantaire shook off his concern, leaned over the bar, and ordered a beer.

* * *

A few hours had passed and Grantaire was feeling pretty good. He had just downed about three beers and had taken about one or two shots. He was about to order another beer in fact when Enjolras suddenly appeared next to him asking the bartender for a water.

"Not drinking much tonight?" Grantaire asked chuckling slightly. He always thought it interesting that as good looking as Enjolras was, he wasn't much of a partier. Grantaire was pretty certain that if Enjolras wanted he could get anyone in the bar to buy him drinks.

"No, I'm not really in the mood." Enjolras replied, pressing his lips together. There was a small pause then he added, "But I'm sure the wines gone to your brain enough for the both of us."

"I'm drinking beer actually." Grantaire said, refusing to take the bait. Sometimes he could deal with people…well manly Enjolras…better when he was drunk.

"Oh! Not again." Enjolras exclaimed suddenly.

"What's wrong?" Grantaire asked before he could stop himself. He watched in confusion as his friend held one hand to his nose and dug frantically for something in his coat pocket. Only once Enjolras found what he was looking for- a handkerchief- did Grantaire realize his nose was bleeding.

"You okay?" Grantaire asked, somewhat alarmed at the amount of blood that had already stained Enjolras's hand.

"It's the cold." Enjolras said quickly, his blue eyes flashing with a flicker of what Grantaire took as annoyance.

"You said again." Grantaire stated. Even though he was drunk he had to wonder if this had anything to do with Enjolras looking so pale. "Have you been getting them a lot?"

"It's not your business." Enjolras snapped.

"Here," Grantaire said passing Enjolras a handful of napkins, choosing to ignore the cold reply, "You're really bleeding."

Enjolras paused before taking the napkins. "Thanks." He mumbled quietly. Grantaire winced at the tone of slight defeat in Enjolras's voice. He wanted so badly to change the topic, but before his drunken brain could think of anything, Enjolras stood up and muttered he was going home and disappeared into the crowd.


	4. Chapter 4

A couple weeks had passed since the group of friend's night out at the bar. After experiencing more nose bleeds, running several low grade fevers, sleeping through his alarm, and nagging from Combeferre, Enjolras finally swallowed his pride and made an appointment with campus doctor. After hearing his complaints and conducting a brief physical, Dr. Ornet-who was one of Joly's mentors-immediately ordered a round of blood tests encouraging Enjolras not to wait to get them done. He patted Enjolras on the back, gave him a small smile, and then moved onto his next patient. Combeferre, who had been sitting in the waiting room, immediately took him for his blood tests ignoring Enjolras's protests of "it being a waste of time". Less than a week later, Enjolras found himself sitting back in Dr. Ornet's office waiting for the results of his blood test.

"Hello Enjolras…" Dr. Ornet said, coming in and shaking his hand as well as Combeferre, who much to Enjolras's protest insisted on coming with him, "How are you today?"

"Fine." Enjolras answered. It wasn't completely true-he'd run a fever into the night and felt exhausted today.

Dr. Ornet nodded slightly then pulled up a chair and sat directly in front of Enjolras "We need to talk." The doctor's voice weighed with seriousness, causing Enjolras's heart to skip a beat. "Your tests came back. There is no easy way to tell you this so I'm just going to say it…. You have leukemia."

"Leukemia?" Enjolras sputtered. Next to him Combeferre drew in a sharp breath. Enjolras felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Sure, he had known something had been wrong over the last couple weeks, but leukemia was one of the last things he expected to hear.

"Yes." Dr. Ornet sighed, rubbing his beard, "I'm so sorry. I suspected as much when you came in with your symptoms last week. I ordered the blood tests to be sure."

"So what do we do?" Combeferre said, clearing his throat. He put his hand on Enjolras's shoulder who shockingly did not shrug him off.

"Well, it's not really my area." Dr. Ornet reached in the pocket of his coat and handed Enjolras a small slip of paper. "However, I can give you the name of an excellent oncologist. His name is Dr. Jernett. He has an excellent rapport with his patients and his statistics on remission-or being cancer free-are outstanding."

"Is he the best?" Combeferre asked causing Enjolras to jump slightly at the gruffness in his voice.

"Yes." Dr. Ornet nodded, "Top of the line. I already called him about your case, Enjolras. He will be expecting a call from you."

"We'll call him today." Combeferre said with certainty. "Thank you for your time." He shook the doctor's hand before motioning for Enjolras to do the same. Enjolras obliged, too in shock to protest. Combeferre then pulled him into a standing position and started to lead him out of the exam room.

"Enjolras…" Dr. Ornet called causing the two to stop in the doorway and turn back to face him. The doctor shook his head, stroked his beard and sighed before saying, "I'm so sorry."

* * *

"We can beat this." Combeferre said confidently, once they were home (and after he made Enjolras call and schedule an appointment with Dr. Jernett). "You're young and strong. I'm going to borrow Joly's medical books tomorrow and look stuff up on my own. I'm sure there is a lot of information in them. We want to be prepared when he go see Dr. Jernett on Thursday."

Enjolras didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, questions, and emotions, yet he felt numb at the same time. Enjolras pushed his lunch Combeferre had made him around his plate, listening to his roommate's one-sided discussion about his health.

"I'm going to ask around about this Dr. Jernett. Take advantage of the fact there are medical students at our school. Joly probably knows about him. I'm sure he is good but we want to make sure you have the best doctor you can possibly have."

"Yeah." Enjolras managed to choke out.

"You don't have to go through this alone." Combeferre continued, "I read somewhere once that having a good support system means a lot when there is a serious illness."

"I don't want anyone to know." Enjolras mumbled.

"Why?" Combeferre asked, putting down his fork from his own lunch, "You need support from our friends right now. They know you haven't been feeling well. They are worried about you. In fact, Courfeyrac told me to call him after we got home from your appointment today."

"I'm just not ready for them to know." Enjolras replied, pushing his plate away.

"Okay…" Combeferre trailed, sounding bewildered. "You know," He added after a few minutes of silence, "You should really try to eat."

"I'm not hungry." Enjolras said softly.

"Do you want something else?" Combeferre pushed gently, "I don't mind making you something else."

"No," Enjolras sighed, pulling his plate back toward him, "This is fine." He forced himself to take a few bites until Combeferre seemed satisfied. The two then spent the rest of the evening just hanging out together. They talked about a variety of subjects from Courfeyrac's crazy antics the night before at the Café-He had tried to convince one of his professors that the reason he had done so badly on a test was a result of a sleep disorder-to the new coffee flavor at the Cafe. They joked about Marius somehow losing the flowers he had bought for Cosette to Joly's newest self-diagnosis of early balding (which he showed absolutely no sign of). They talked about everything and anything as long as it wasn't related to the news of the day.

It wasn't until later that night once Enjolras was sure Combeferre was asleep, and he was alone in his room, did he finally allow himself to cry.


	5. Chapter 5

"Where the hell is Enjolras?" Grantaire growled at Combeferre who for the third time in two weeks came to a meeting of the Les Amis without the company of their leader.

"He's got a touch of the flu." Combeferre mumbled using the lie Enjolras had coached him to use.

"Last week it was a migraine, and then it was some important paper, now it's the flu." Grantaire pushed, "You know if he's grown bored with his whole notion of saving the world he should just tell us himself."

"No, that's not it." Combeferre sighed, wishing Enjolras would just swallow his pride and let his friends know the reality of his situation. Combeferre didn't blame Grantaire for his annoyance. If he didn't know what was really going on, he felt he too would be a little miffed.

The truth of course was Enjolras was far too sick to come to the meeting. He'd had chemo that morning and spent the day throwing up and shaking uncontrollably. Combeferre had finally gotten him to sleep after promising to come to the meeting tonight and sharing the bullet points Enjolras had drafted up several days before.

"I have half a mind to go over and see if he really is sick." Grantaire shook his head, and took another swig of his beer.

"Trust me." Combeferre said relieved to somewhat tell the truth, "He's _sick_."

"The flu is going around." Joly interjected suddenly. "It's supposed to be really bad this year. It's supposed to last a couple of days. Or weeks!"

Combeferre excused himself to go get some fresh air, more than happy to allow Joly buzz on and on about the signs of the flu, what you should do when you get the flu, how to prevent the flu, and how to tell the difference between the flu and a common cold.

"So what's really wrong?" Courfeyrac asked, following him down the stairs.

"It's the flu." Combeferre said quickly. "Is it so hard to believe Enjolras caught the flu? He doesn't exactly take the best care of himself."

"No," Courfeyrac said, shaking his head, "It's not hard to believe he caught the flu, but I know you Ferre. You are a horrible liar."

"I am not." Combeferre said feeling a bit offended.

"Your mouth twitches when you lie." Courfeyrac said simply, "And you turn red. You've just done both. So what's wrong? I know it has to be more than the flu, a migraine, and especially a freakin paper for Enjolras to miss so many meetings."

"I can't tell you." Combeferre said, shaking his head, "Enjolras swore me to secrecy."

"Well that's wonderful." Courfeyrac snapped, "It's nice to know my two best friends can't trust me enough to tell me the truth."

"It's not like that." Combeferre insisted.

"Whatever Combeferre." Courfeyrac said, waving him off. Combeferre sighed, feeling his anger boiling at Enjolras for being so stubborn and forcing him to keep such a dreadful secret.

* * *

"You really need to tell them." Combeferre said as soon as he spotted Enjolras that night.

"Well, nice to see you too." Enjolras said, taking a sip of what Combeferre hoped to be tea. "How was the meeting?"

"Not great." Combeferre sighed, and plopped down next to his roommate on the couch. "They know something is up. They really aren't buying your excuses. Courfeyrac knows something is wrong and hurt that _we_ won't tell him. Grantaire—"

"Grantaire is a paranoid alcoholic cynic." Enjolras said, shifting slightly on the couch.

"Well this time he isn't wrong in assuming something is really wrong." Combeferre said, snapping feeling Enjolras wince slightly from his reply. "Enj…" He said deciding to take a different approach, "All I'm saying is they are your friends. They care about you. I really think you should tell them. This…. situation….of yours is not going to go away in a few days. You're going to get sicker. They are going to start to notice."

"I know." Enjolras's passivity stunned Combeferre. He looked down at his lap before he cleared his throat. "I took a shower a little before you got back. I was hoping it would make me feel better. When I washed my hair I noticed…I um….well….I noticed… well, my hairs starting to fall out."

"Already?" Combeferre breathed.

"Yeah." Enjolras reached up and absentmindedly touched his array of disheveled curls. "I umm…I didn't think it would happen this fast."

"Me neither." Combeferre sighed. He suddenly felt incredibly guilty for being so angry at Enjolras.

"I think I'll talk to Courfeyrac before anyone else. He should know before the rest of them."

* * *

Courfeyrac cried when Enjolras told him. Combeferre could feel tears pricking his own eyes as he sat on the couch, listening to his friend's sobs, with Enjolras in between them.

"I'm sorry I was so angry with you." Courfeyrac said, sobbing.

"I should have told you." Enjolras said honestly. "I guess I just didn't want to admit I was sick to myself..."

"I should have known something was wrong." Courfeyrac sniffed, "Joly kept mentioning you looked pale for weeks….I just figured you weren't getting enough sleep."

"Well, that was probably a true assumption." Enjolras said, cracking a smile.

"So what are they going to do for you?" Courfeyrac wiped his nose on his sleeve, not willing to let Enjolras turn their conversation into a joke fest.

"Chemotherapy." Enjolras replied, pulling at the blanket Combeferre had given him for his chills, "I've already had three treatments. It kills the cancer. That's why I wasn't at the meeting last night. I um…I get pretty sick off of the stuff."

"I heard that stuff was harsh." Courfeyrac muttered.

"I wouldn't recommend it." Enjolras answered. "Now," He said, changing the subject, "Tell me about this girl you met the night when you and Joly went out. Have you taken her out yet?" Courfeyrac glanced over at Combeferre, who nodded as if giving his blessing it was alright to change the subject. Courfeyrac launched into a humorous story how the girl had actually been a young married woman whose husband showed up when Courfeyrac was in the middle of making out with her. After a few subject changes Enjolras drifted off to sleep and Combeferre motioned for Courfeyrac to follow him into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time." Courfeyrac said, "In my wildest, craziest thoughts, I never thought that_ that_ was the truth."

"It's okay." Combeferre said, "I wanted to tell you, but I just couldn't. He had to tell you in his own time."

"So be truthful." Courfeyrac said, taking the cup of coffee Combeferre offered him, "Is it bad?"

"Well we caught it early." Combeferre said, taking a sip from his own cup. "His oncologist-Dr. Jernett-is very hopeful. He's put Enjolras on a pretty tough treatment cycle. He says it's our best hope for remission."

"And that is?" Combeferre asked, sounding somewhat embarrassed.

"Pretty much it means if everything goes well Enjolras will be cancer free." Courfeyrac reached out and gave his friends hand a pat, "Don't feel bad, up until a few weeks ago, I didn't know half the words I know now."

"So he's not going to die?" Courfeyrac asked, his voice lowering to a whisper.

"No." Combeferre said a little harsher than he intended, "He's not going to die."

* * *

Their other friends displayed a variety of reactions when Enjolras told them the news he was sick. He and Combeferre had invited everyone over to their apartment the next afternoon because Enjolras insisted he felt more secure telling them in private. Joly immediately started quizzing Enjolras on his treatments, Jehan (the poet and gentlest of the group) burst into tears, and Marius just sat there with his mouth hanging open. Grantaire surprisingly didn't say anything but immediately (and not so surprisingly) pulled a bottle out of his bag and took a swig. After everyone calmed down (or became fairly intoxicated) they left the apartment rather early under Combeferre's instructions. Enjolras had chemo in the morning and Combeferre insisted he get a good night sleep before. The fact that Enjolras's eyes were already beginning to flicker with exhaustion made his order easy to follow.

* * *

"That went well." Enjolras said sleepily from the couch as Combeferre ran up the stairs from walking their friends outside.

"Of course it did." Combeferre said, holding out his hand so Enjolras could pull himself up, "They are your friends after all. They care about you."

"Guess they do." Enjolras leaned against Combeferre who pretended to not notice the weightlessness of Enjolras's body. Enjolras was not a big guy. In fact, he was always the smallest out of Combeferre and Courfeyrac, but he had always been strong.

"Get a good night sleep." Combeferre said, helping Enjolras crawl into bed.

It was only after Combeferre was alone in his room, and he was sure Enjolras was asleep, did he finally allow himself to cry.


	6. Chapter 6

Enjolras couldn't help staring at his now unrecognizable reflection in the bathroom mirror after his shower. He had to admit his appearance was shocking. It had only been a few weeks since he had begun the treatments for his leukemia and he already looked so sick. His skin was pale, which emphasized the dark circles that were now permanent marking under his eyes. His lips were cracked from his (slightly embarrassing) inability to keep anything down due to the latest bout of chemotherapy. The most shocking however was the absence of his character defining golden locks. He had grown tired of finding golden ringlets on his pillow every morning, and in a moment of bravery (mixed with perhaps a moment of hysteria), had managed to convince an uneasy Combeferre to shear off the rest.

He was aware people thought he was good looking; he had been called handsome, striking, and sometimes even beautiful ever since he was a small child; but he never put much thought into it. His mother, who had blessed him with her golden hair and big blue eyes dubbed him her "little prince". Enjolras, who at five would have preferred wearing his street clothes and racing around with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, would be put into his best clothes and paraded around her circle of friends. Enjolras loved his mother so he allowed her to show him off even though he hated the fact her friends would pinch his cheeks and play with his curls. Once he even overheard his father say to a family friend that such beauty shouldn't have been wasted on a boy who would never amount to anything.

"Enjolras…." Combeferre's voice called from behind the door, interrupting his thoughts, "You okay in there?"

"Yeah," Enjolras quickly wrapped his towel around his waist and opened the door. "I was just showering."

"You look better today." Combeferre said almost awkwardly.

"Well," Enjolras cleared his throat, "I'm not glued to the toilet so that's an improvement."

"That's true." Combeferre said seriously.

"Relax." Enjolras said, laughing a little at his roommate's tenseness, "I feel fine today. In fact I was going to ask you if you wanted to go grab some coffee."

"Yeah, sure." Combeferre nodded, "You better go get dressed. You'll catch your death in this drafty apartment." Combeferre turned red the second he realized what he had just said.

"Wouldn't that be an interesting end?" Enjolras teased, "Guy survives traumatic childhood experience, gets diagnosed with cancer, but succumbs to his death by chill." Enjolras flashed his roommate a huge grin until Combeferre's finally smiled back

"Just go get dressed." Combeferre shook his head, chuckling to himself before going into the bathroom to take his own shower.

* * *

Combeferre made sure to shower and get dressed quickly. Even on non-chemo days, Enjolras ran out of energy quickly. Dr. Jernett had suggested getting fresh air each day for the nausea (as long as Enjolras could get out of bed) and sometimes a walk around the block left him breathless and exhausted. There were times, much to Enjolras's dismay, where he had to lean on Combeferre just to make it back to their apartment.

"You ready?" He asked Enjolras who he found lying on his bed, reading a book.

"Yep." Enjolras closed his book and together they started to head downstairs.

"Wear your warmer jacket." Combeferre said, without even glancing at Enjolras. He hid a smile as he heard his roommate grumbling and digging through the coat closet in the hall.

"Satisfyied?" Enjolras teased as he slid on the newsboy hat Cosette had given him the other day.

"Wait," Combeferre reached into the closet, grabbed a scarf and wrapped it around Enjolras's mouth. "Now, I'm ready."

* * *

"Wait," Enjolras reached out and grabbed Combeferre by the arm, yanking him backward once they'd reached the cafe, "I can't go in yet."

"Do you feel sick?" Combeferre said with a panic.

"No…" Enjolras could feel his cheeks reddening slightly, "It's my hair. They haven't seen me yet without my hair."

"Oh." Combeferre said, letting out a sigh of relief and a small chuckle.

"It's not funny." Enjolras said rather defensively.

"I don't think it's funny." Combeferre explained, "I'm just glad that that is the problem right now."

Enjolras frowned slightly. He looked as though he were about to argue when his mouth turned upward slightly.

"I guess everything considered, running around with no hair isn't the worst that could happen." He said with an awkward laugh.

"You better thank Cosette again for the hat." Combeferre said, as he pulled the front of the newspaper hat over Enjolras's eyes. Cosette, forever the sweetheart, had brought it over for him the other day.

"I know hats aren't your thing." She had said softly, "But use it when you need it."

Now, as Enjolras pushed the hat back into place, stopping of course to whack Combeferre hard in the arm, he felt his heart softening a little as a result of her kindness and consideration.

* * *

Much to Enjolras relief, no one mentioned the hat. His friends only seemed happy to have him there. In fact, some of them actually cheered when they saw him. Courfeyrac actually jumped up and down on his chair. When Cosette came up for a hug, he expressed the gratitude he felt toward her for her gift.

"Of course." She whispered, gently squeezing his hand.

"How you feeling?" Joly asked. Without asking he picked up Enjolras's wrist and felt his pulse.

"Get out of here." Enjolras said, swatting him away, with a laugh. "My heart is fine."

"An irregular heartbeat could be the result of underlining conditions." Joly said seriously, trying to grab Enjolras's wrist again.

"Joly," Combeferre said, patting the young medical student on the back, "Relax. If Enjolras had an irregular heartbeat, I'm sure his doctors would have picked it up. They are pretty thorough."

"They get paid to find problems." Grantaire said from the table next to him. "Trust me; if he had even a small glitch in his heart they'd have him on thousands of meds."

"I think there are doctors out there who aren't crooks." Enjolras said, turning to face Grantaire.

"Keep thinking that." Grantaire said with a snort. "No one is out there to help anyone. It's all about money." He turned his chair so it was facing Enjolras, "Do you think if you couldn't pay your bills you'd be getting the type treatment that you are getting?" Then Grantaire smiled slightly, "Tell me Enjolras, how are you paying for your medical bills? The job you were working at couldn't have paid that much…You don't have parents that I know of…" Then his eyes widened, "Oh my god," He said, "You're a rich kid!"

"That doesn't matter." Enjolras said turning red.

"It does matter." Grantaire laughed, "Young Robin Hood, who preaches stealing from the rich and giving to the poor is rich himself!"

"You're really out of line." Courfeyrac snapped. "Don't talk about things you know nothing about."

"But my point is now seen among all of you." Grantaire declared, "Enjolras is receiving treatment from the best doctors-which by the way is Combeferre's words, not mine-because he is able to pay for it. I bet if he was a poor man on the street he would have been sent home and not given a second thought."

"I'd like to think there are people out there, whether it's doctors, politicians, lawyers, _or men on the street_ that are kind and look out for the greater good." Enjolras answered.

"Hey!" Cosette suddenly interrupted, "Who wants a piece of pumpkin pie! My treat!" Her attempt at changing the subject was so obvious that it made everyone laugh, including Grantaire and Enjolras.

Combeferre sighed with relief, reminding himself to thank Cosette later. Part of him was relieved to see Enjolras so fired up and fighting with Grantaire, but he also knew it was unneeded stress. He was especially glad Grantaire turned back to the book he was reading and hadn't pushed Enjolras anymore on his "rich kid" assumptions.

The truth about Enjolras being a rich kid was true; Grantaire hadn't been wrong. But Combeferre knew it was far more complicated than Enjolras being born into privilege. He had a trust fund but it was set up by Combeferre's own parents. They set it up soon after Enjolras secret was reveled. Combeferre and Courfeyrac had found Enjolras laying unconscious, on his kitchen floor. It was obvious he had been badly beaten. Without a second thought, Combeferre decided enough was enough and he ran to find his father. Once discovering what happened, Combeferre's parents, immediately decided Enjolras would live with them. Combeferre's father Arthur, a prominent lawyer, drafted up a deal that made sure that Enjolras would still be given the money of his birthright. It was agreed that Enjolras would be given the money once he graduated college. However that all changed when Enjolras was diagnosed. He called Arthur, explaining the situation and expenses of his treatments and was wired the money immediately. The only stipulation from Combeferre's parents was that Enjolras kept them posted on how he was doing and that they could visit when every business slowed down. Combeferre knew that that wasn't a problem on either end. Enjolras loved his parents as if they were his own, and his parents loved him as a son in return. After all, it was his mother, Claire, who nursed Enjolras back to health after that last beating. And it was Arthur, who showed up at Phillipe Lillminett's house the very next morning, telling him his son, Enjolras, would not be returning to live with him.

"Here you go Ferre." Cosette said placing a piece of pie in front of him, interrupting his thoughts.

"Thank you." He offered her a kind smile, mouthed a thank you then turned to join in his friend's conversation. He caught Enjolras's eyes at one point and they smiled at each other. Combeferre could tell they were both thankful for the normalcy that buzzed around them.

The group of friends ended up staying at the café into the evening. It was only when Enjolras started to slouch in his chair a bit did Combeferre realize the time.

"Have a good time?" Combeferre asked Enjolras, as they started to walk home on the old cobblestone road.

"I did." Enjolras cleared his throat, shaking slightly as the cold air hit him, "It was nice feeling normal again…Even if it was for only for a day."


	7. Chapter 7

"Is this normal?" Grantaire asked, his eyes growing wide with alarm. He'd stopped over to ask Combeferre a question on a science paper only to find him on the floor in the living room, cradling an obviously ill and very pale, Enjolras in his arms. Grantaire watched in horror as Enjolras shivered and trembled as if he had just been thrown into a pond of ice water.

"Yes." Combeferre said, trying to hide his annoyance. "It's always like this on chemo days." He wrapped Enjolras tighter in the blanket he'd given him earlier and rubbed his arms.

"Ferre," Enjolras said urgently, "I'm going to be sick."

"Here." Combeferre grabbed the bucket that was next to the couch, and put it in front of Enjolras, who immediately leaned over and threw up. Combeferre didn't say anything and rubbed Enjolras's back in circles until he stopped being sick. Enjolras then fell back against Combeferre, breathing hard, looking grey. Much to Grantaire's dismay, the shaking started again. The pattern of throwing up and trembling continued a few more times until finally Enjolras rested against Combeferre and fell fast asleep.

"Help me move him, will you?" Combeferre asked rather gruffly. For some reason Grantaire's presence was really irritating him. Maybe it was because his two friends never really gotten along. Or that after a hard night of drinking Grantaire exhibited the same symptoms and chose to go through the motions Enjolras was now forced to live with every few days. Or maybe it was because Combeferre felt, much like Enjolras did that there were portions of his illness that were to be kept private.

"Sure." Grantaire coughed awkwardly, then bent down and together he and Combeferre carried Enjolras into his bedroom. Grantaire stepped back watching as Combeferre tucked Enjolras into bed, noting the tenderness he used. Enjolras stirred and Combeferre whispered for him to go back to sleep. It reminded him of how a father might soothe a sick child.

"He should sleep for a while." Combeferre said, straightening, motioning to head out of the bedroom. Grantaire followed Combeferre into the kitchen, still kind of stunned in what he'd just witnessed. He watched in silence as Combeferre began to warm the soup on the stove.

"So he's really sick, huh?" Grantaire finally asked speaking out loud his thoughts.

"Of course he's sick." Combeferre said matter-of-factly.

"I just didn't realize it was so bad." Grantaire continued, "I mean, you can tell by looking at him he's sick but—"

"Shut up, Grantaire." Combeferre snapped suddenly, interrupting him. "Just shut up."

"Hey!" Grantaire held up his hands, "I wasn't trying to be offensive. I wasn't trying to make you mad."

"Mad!" Combeferre slammed down the spoon and turned to face Grantaire, ignoring the look of shook on his face, "I'm not mad. I'm terrified I'm going to lose my best friend." Suddenly Combeferre realized he wasn't angry with Grantaire at all. He was scared. Scared that Enjolras was going to die.

"You're not going to lose him." Grantaire said softly.

"You don't know what it's like." Combeferre shook his head, "You don't have to see him so weak that at times he can't even walk to the bathroom by himself. You don't have to hold him because the medicine-which is supposed to cure him-makes him shake so violently." Combeferre began to sob. "You don't have to watch him throw up until you wonder what he could possibly have left in him. You don't hear him cry out in his sleep because his body is in so much pain." He took a long, deep, shaky breath, "I would give _anything_ just to have the old Enjolras back."

"We all would." Grantaire said gently. He reached out and awkwardly patted Combeferre's shoulder. "It sounds like you've really taken on a lot. I honestly had no idea it was like this."

"I don't mind." Combeferre said, wiping his eyes, suddenly exhausted, "He's my best friend."

"I know you don't." Grantaire said, "But that's a lot to take on emotionally. That's a lot to handle."

Combeferre picked up a photo of himself and Enjolras from Marius's birthday and handed it to Grantaire. "This was less than four months ago."

Grantaire studied the photo. Combeferre's arm was draped over Enjolras's shoulder. Both men were smiling, but it was Enjolras's grin that really lit up the photo. He's cheeks were pink and healthy, his eyes glowed, and his blonde curls, disheveled as they were, cast a golden glow around him. There was not a hint of illness in his face.

Grantaire had to admit the change was drastic.

"Maybe we can all pitch in more." Grantaire said, handing the photo back to Combeferre.

"I don't know about that." Combeferre sighed, "He doesn't like people to see him like this."

"We aren't people though." Grantaire pointed out, "We are his friends. And besides, we don't have to make it obvious we are helping out."

Combeferre shook his head. "Enjolras may be sick, but he is not stupid. He'll know something is up."

"Well then tell him we want to spend time with him." Grantaire shrugged, "It's not that it's a lie." He turned red before adding, "I mean for most of us."

Combeferre sank in a chair thinking over Grantaire's offer.

The truth was, much to Enjolras's obvious dismay, he was able to do less and less on his own, thus relying more and more on Combeferre. Just the other night in fact, Combeferre had to practically lift him out of the tub after a bath. Combeferre knew that Enjolras hated being so helpless. The cancer had not only robbed him of his health, youth, and strength, but slowly of his independence. He knew Enjolras, who not long ago was strong and lively, struggled greatly with this loss. Combeferre however was a pragmatist…he knew as much as it upset Enjolras to have to depend on him, it was the reality of the situation. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, it was becoming clear that Enjolras's care required more help than he was able to give. He was not sleeping well himself, his schoolwork was suffering and he was a constant bundle of nerves.

"Well?" Grantaire asked, raising an eyebrow, "What do you think?"

Combeferre sighed.

"I'll talk to him."

* * *

It took some coaxing to convince Enjolras to agree to let their friends help him out. After a minor outburst that he "didn't need help", and Combeferre assuring him that this was "just temporary" and that he himself would still be the "primary caregiver", Enjolras eventually agreed. When Combeferre, who had braced himself for a much bigger battle, gave everyone the nod of approval, they sat down immediately and worked out a schedule so that Enjolras (much to his annoyance and Combeferre's insistence) was hardly alone.

Marius normally came in the morning, asked Enjolras how he was feeling, and then would ask his advice on how to respond to the ridiculous letters his grandfather wrote him, or how he should handle debating a subject for class. Sometimes he'd bring Cosette who, in turn, would bring a variety of baked goods she made herself. She'd hold his hand or gently rub his back talking about all the things they would do as a group once he was well. Enjolras appreciated her undying optimism.

Courfeyrac visits consisted mainly of incessant chatter. He'd bounce back and forth between asking Enjolras's how he was feeling and filling him in on the outside world.

After Dr. Jernett discussed with Enjolras the importance of visualization to handle his pain, Jehan began to accompany him to his chemo appointment. The poet would read to him for hours, his gentle voice soothing an often impatient Enjolras. Jehan's words allowed his soul leave his body, travel to a warm beautiful beach, or walk through the woods on a fall day. They allowed him to be anywhere but stuck in a hospital chair while poison flowed into his veins.

Joly questioned every decision Enjolras's doctors made, scribbling into a notebook the things he wanted to share with his professors. Over the course of his visit, he'd take Enjolras's pulse and temperature, assess his breathing rate, and listen to his heartbeat emphasizing the importance of vitals.

Grantaire on the other hand made no effort to bring him gifts, read him poetry, or ask him how he was feeling every ten minutes. In fact, Grantaire hardly every even acknowledged Enjolras was ill. He treated him just the way he always had; as Enjolras did him. Grantaire would stop over every few days to give Enjolras his reading assignment for the class they were in together. Even though Enjolras was too ill to attend class, he was determined to keep on top of what his colleagues were reading. Once that was settled, they'd argue their different viewpoints on the world (until Grantaire would get frustrated and storm out of the apartment), debate the best ways to run Les Amis meetings. Sometimes they'd discuss the readings for their homework assignments, wondering what the other had gotten out of it. They both knew, even though neither would ever admit it that they challenged one another, causing the other to ponder his beliefs, if even for a moment. In short, they made each other better men.

As grateful and appreciative as Enjolras was for all of his friends, he found himself looking the most forward to Grantaire's visits. Even though they were not as comforting as Cosette's, entertaining as Courfeyrac's, or soothing as Jehan's, Grantaire's visits created a feeling of normalcy. Grantaire represented his old self, his old life. The self he was before cancer. And the life he desperately prayed he'd live again.


	8. Chapter 8

Notes: I'm not sure if I'm completely satisfied with this chapter. I might add to it or change it over the next couple days. Let me know what you all think.

* * *

Enjolras climbed up on the exam table, shivering slightly as the coldness of the room hit him through his thin hospital gown. He glanced around the now familiar room, sighing and cursing himself for once again forgetting to bring a book. The only good thing about this appointment was it was his check up before he went into his "rest period" from his chemo treatments. He couldn't wait to not have to come to the hospital every couple days for two weeks. Shivering once more, Enjolras lay back against the table, remembering the first time he was ever in this room. He'd been so _sure_ that there'd been a mistake.

_"__I really think this is a waste of time." He had said to Combeferre, who of course, insisted on coming with him._

_"__Let's just hear what the doctor has to say." Combeferre replied behind a book, obviously ignoring the fact that Enjolras was pacing back and forth._

_"__I just think we ought to go home." Enjolras said, "I probably just haven't been getting enough sleep. I bet that is all it is."_

_"__Wait for the doctor, Enjolras." Combeferre replied, glancing up briefly._

_"__I bet the labs mislabeled my blood." Enjolras continued, "I'm sure it happens."_

_This time Combeferre just ignored him, turning to a new page of the book without saying anything._

_Before Enjolras could come up with any other reasons why they should just head for home there was a knock at the door, and a tall man, with greying brown hair and glasses entered the room._

_"__Enjolras Lillminette?" He asked, glancing between the two young men._

_"__That's me." Enjolras said, raising his hand slightly and instantly feeling stupid. He sank into the chair besides Combeferre, ignoring the stifled snicker._

_"__I'm Dr. Jernett." The man reached his hand out to shake Enjolras's first, and then Combeferre's, who quickly closed his book and introduced himself._

_"__Well, I've been looking at the notes Dr. Ornett wrote and your lab work…"_

_"__And there's been a mistake, right?"_

_"__No." Dr. Jernett said, glancing up, "I'm sorry to say I don't believe there has been. Now there are several ways to go about treating your leukemia. However, in my opinion, the most sensible and effective way is to start with chemotherapy. This will kill the cancer hopefully put you into remission. That means you will be cancer free. If you decide to go this route, you will do the chemo in cycles. You will be on treatment for several weeks, with a rest period in between. I must warn you the chemo is trying. It kills healthy cells as well as the cancer ones. You'll probably experience nausea, vomiting, dizziness, and fatigue. You'll more than likely lose your hair."_

_"__And if I decide just to live my life and not do this chemo thing?" Enjolras asked, glancing at Combeferre who closed his eyes briefly._

_"__Most likely you won't make it a year."_

_"__So my options are to be super sick or die?"_

_"__It's your choice." Dr. Jernett said, "I am not here to make the choice for you. I'm here just to tell you your options and my suggestions."_

_"__Do the chemo, Enj." Combeferre whispered beside him._

_Enjolras sighed. This was all happening too quickly. "Are you sure I really need it?" He asked Dr. Jernett._

_"__I wouldn't put you through it if I didn't." Dr. Jernett replied, "Or if I didn't think you could handle it."_

_"__Please, Enjolras." Combeferre urged, "I will be with you every step of the way. I promise."_

_Enjolras sighed, running his hand through his curls. He bit his lip and glanced over at Combeferre, his eyes pleading. He sighed once more before taking a deep breath and mumbled, "I'll do the chemo." _

_"__Good choice." Dr. Jernett said, smiling for the first time since he'd introduced himself. "We will insert a port into your upper chest, below your collarbone. It is pretty much a device that will sit under your skin that connects directly to your veins. This way you don't have to be stuck by a needle every time you come in to receive treatment. I'll schedule the insertion for Monday at eight o'clock."_

_"__**This**__ Monday?" Enjolras said in alarm, his voice squeaking slightly, "That's rather soon, isn't it?" His mind automatically raced through all the things he needed to do. He had speeches to deliver to the Les Amis, papers to write, tests to study for. "Can't we wait?"_

_"__Cancer __**doesn't**__ wait." Dr. Jernett answered, standing up. "I'll see you Monday. My receptionist will call you sometime tomorrow to confirm and discuss how you should prepare." With that, he shook both Enjolras's and Combeferre's hand, and headed out the door, closing it behind him._

"Good day, Enjolras." Dr. Jernett entered the room with a knock, snapping Enjolras back into the present world, "How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay." Enjolras replied, shrugging.

"You look tired." Dr. Jernett stated, reaching out and feeling Enjolras's glands, "You sleeping okay?"

"Average." Enjolras shrugged.

"Enjolras," Dr. Jernett shook his head, looking a little amused, "I've gotten to know you pretty well the last few months. I'm going to ask you again; are you sleeping okay?"

"Not really." Enjolras sighed. "During the day I can't seem to stay awake no matter how hard I try. I fall asleep okay at night, but I wake up and find it hard to go back to sleep."

"And why's that?" Dr. Jernett pressed slightly.

"Sometimes I just hurt. I feel like my bones are on fire." Enjolras turned his head upward slightly so that Dr. Jernett could look into his ears.

"The chemo can cause bone pain." Dr. Jernett said matter-of-factly. "Some patients don't experience it, but many do. I can prescribe you something to help if you want."

"I'm already on pills to help with the nausea and dizziness." Enjolras said, feeling defeated, "Plus vitamins to keep me from getting an infection."

"I understand. It's your choice." Dr. Jernett shrugged.

Once again, this was something Enjolras always appreciated about Dr. Jernett. The doctor never pressured him into doing or taking anything. He had made it very clear from the start that he respected Enjolras in both body and mind. He had however, continued that somewhat of an annoying habit of constantly making Enjolras reconsider his stubborn already made up mind.

"And you're eating well?" Dr. Jernett asked, shinning his pen-light into Enjolras's eyes.

"As well as I can." Enjolras paused as Dr. Jernett listened to his lungs and heart.

"Are the pills helping with your nausea?" Dr. Jernett placed his stethoscope back on his neck and began to check Enjolras's reflexes.

"Yeah," Enjolras cleared his throat, "Chemo days are still pretty rough, but not as bad. I'm able to keep more down. My friend Jehan brought me some ginger tea. That seemed to help settle my stomach."

"Yes, ginger can help manage nausea and vomiting." Dr. Jernett smiled, "You have some good friends. I'm sure you are appreciative of them."

"Oh, I am." Enjolras smiled for the first since the start of the appointment.

"And how is Combeferre?"

"He's good. Overprotective, but good." Enjolras chuckled, "He acts like if he leaves me alone for more than ten minutes I'll break."

"He's just scared, Enjolras." Dr. Jernett said, sinking down into the chair next to the exam table, "You're his best friend."

"I know. I just sometimes wish he'd go out and live a little." Enjolras often surprised himself with how much he shared with his doctor, "I feel like he's put his life on hold because of me. It's like we are sharing my cancer."

"In a way you are." Dr. Jernett said, "Anyone close to someone who has cancer shares in their illness. It's not uncommon for those who are close to the patient to react the way Combeferre is reacting."

"I guess…" Enjolras sighed, "I know I'd do the same thing if the situations were reversed. I just feel guilty for taking so much of his time."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"I've told him to go out and have a few drinks with our friends, or go have a cup of coffee but he won't."

"Well, I can't speak for Combeferre, but if I may offer my prospective, he probably figures he'd have a hard time "having a few" without his best friend."

"Don't you think that's something he might have to get used to?" Enjolras snapped, shocking himself with the sharpness of his voice.

"Enjolras." Dr. Jernett, leaned over in his chair, "Look at me." The doctor waited until Enjolras finally met his gaze, "We are nowhere near having that conversation, okay?"

Enjolras studied his doctors face before nodding.

"And," Dr. Jernett continued, "If we ever have to have that conversation, I give you my word I'll be honest with you."

"Okay." Enjolras whispered.

"Now," Dr. Jernett sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs, "As I'm sure you're well aware of, you don't have any chemo treatments for two weeks because you're going into your rest period. You will more than likely start feeling like your old self. Your energy level will increase and your nausea and dizziness will probably disappear. I must caution you however, do not overdo it just because you feel well. You're resting your body from the last round of treatments and preparing it lor the next ones. You still have to eat well and get plenty of sleep."

"Alright, I will." Enjolras said, shrugging. To be truthful he couldn't imagine himself really overdoing it. Just to not be exhausted or nauseous was unimaginable enough for him.

"Good." Dr. Jernett smiled and stood up, "Now, before you go today we have to flush your port with saline. This will keep it clean from infections. There might be a little pressure, but it shouldn't be too bad. A nurse will be in to do that, and then you're free to go. As always you can call me if you have any questions. I'll see you in two weeks." He patted Enjolras on the back and started to head out the door before turning back around. "Oh, and talk to Combeferre."


	9. Chapter 9

Notes: Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews :). They really mean a lot to me. Once again I might be editing this/changing something in this chapter.

* * *

"So you get a two week break?" Courfeyrac exclaimed. He had stopped over the apartment to hear how Enjolras' doctor appointment had gone. "That's great! Time to party!" He clapped Enjolras somewhat hard on the back.

"I highly doubt that's a good idea." Combeferre said, glancing up over the newspaper he was reading, "In fact, I know it's not."

"It's not like I was a big party guy before all this." Enjolras said, feeling slightly annoyed by both of them.

"You know, I never got why you weren't." Courfeyrac wondered, "Grantaire and I've talked about it a lot."

"I didn't know I was such a conversational topic." Enjolras replied, glancing at Combeferre who by this time had put down his newspaper and was frowning at Courfeyrac.

"We just figured with your looks you could get anyone to buy you drinks without trying." Courfeyrac shrugged, "Grantaire always used to say if he had your looks he'd be a total alcoholic."

"As opposed to what he is now?" Enjolras retorted sharply.

"Why don't we change the subject?" Combeferre suggested.

"Why?" Enjolras snapped, turning his anger on Combeferre.

"Because this conversation is obviously making you upset."

"And I can't be upset?" Enjolras snapped. "Just because I'm sick I can't be upset?" He almost winced at the shrillness of his own voice.

"First of all, calm down." Combeferre held his hand up, glancing at Courfeyrac who awkwardly stuck his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor.

"You're always telling me what to do!" Enjolras exploded, "Enjolras, you _need_ to rest. Enjolras, you _should_ eat more, Enjolras, take your vitamins. It's like you constantly remind me I'm sick. I _know _I'm sick. It's kind of hard to forget between the chemo appointments, throwing up, and losing my hair."

"Enjolras…" Combeferre began in confusion, but Enjolras cut him off,

"Can you guys just leave me alone?" He leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes, "Because in case you forgot, I'm _too sick_ to storm out of the room."

"Come on, Ferre." Courfeyrac said, practically yanking Combeferre out of the chair he was sitting in. "Give him some space."

"What the hell was that about?" Combeferre said, once the two had gotten outside.

"The truth." Courfeyrac's eyes met Combeferre's.

"What do you mean the truth?"

"Ferre," Courfeyrac reached out, touching his friend's shoulder, "Let's get coffee and talk, okay?"

* * *

They decided to go to the coffee shop a few blocks away from Café Musain so that they could talk in private without being interrupted.

"Look," Courfeyrac said rubbing the back of his neck, "There is no doubt these last few weeks have been tough on all of us. It's been rough watching Enj go from being…well from being himself to being so sick. I think it's fair to say is that they've been as hard on you as they have been on Enjolras." Courfeyrac paused briefly, as if he were choosing his words. "I want you know you've done a great job taking care of him. A far better job than the rest of us could. We help as much as we can, but it's really you who has been there every step of the way so far." Courfeyrac pushed his lips together before continuing. "However, your entire day and world is wrapped up in how Enjolras is doing, how Enjolras is feeling, whether or not he ate or slept enough."

"And what exactly do you expect me to do?" Combeferre said, feeling defensive.

"Just let him breathe a little." Courfeyrac answered, stirring his tea, "Let yourself breathe a little. Constantly standing over him, questioning and micromanaging his every move is not going to stop the leukemia. It's not going to cure him."

Combeferre sighed, feeling a lump settling his throat.

"Did Enjolras tell you to say this?" He asked, his voice shaking.

"No." Courfeyrac shook his head, "No, he hasn't said anything to me. But you two sometimes forget…I'm both of your best friends too. I know the two of you as well as I know myself. Besides," He gave Combeferre a weary smile, "I've been through a similar scenario with him myself. Remember what I was like when we first found out what his dad was doing to him? I did everything short of kidnapping him to get him away from that bastard. I nearly ruined our friendship by constantly bringing it up."

Combeferre mind flashed back to a much younger version of the three of them. It seemed back then there was always tension between Enjolras and Courfeyrac. Mainly because, like he had just admitted, Courfeyrac constantly brought up the situation between Enjolras and his father. And in typical Enjolras fashion, he constantly changed the subject or told Courfeyrac to drop it. Although Combeferre had always agreed completely with Courfeyrac on getting Enjolras out of his living conditions, he knew that it had to be done in Enjolras's own terms and in his own way. Combeferre had known, the abuse beyond humiliated Enjolras. Back then Combeferre often was the buffer between Courfeyrac's irate insistence to tell someone and Enjolras's paining shame not to.

"Remember when we were fourteen?" Courfeyrac said, "When his dad broke his arm?"

Combeferre nodded. He remembered it like it was yesterday. It was a Saturday and the three had planned on studying for a math exam at Combeferre's (because his mother was never home) for a math exam. Combeferre and Courfeyrac were sitting in his kitchen when Enjolras had shown up, late, his arm in a cast. Courfeyrac immediately ( and understandably) flipped out, demanding how it had happened.

_"__It's not a big deal." Enjolras had said, looking down at the kitchen floor, his blonde curls falling into his eyes. _

_"__He broke your arm, Enjolras!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, his eyes flashing with anger, "How is that not a big deal?"_

_"__Come on Enj, how'd it happen?" Combeferre asked, glancing between his two friends, hating the growing tension between them._

_"__He came home with his buddies drunk." Enjolras shrugged, "I guess I forgot to put my book bag away and he tripped over it—"_

_"__So he broke your arm?" Courfeyrac interrupted, nearly jumping out of his chair, "With his friends there? Did any of them try to stop it?"_

_"__No." Enjolras fidgeted where he was standing. "They just kind of laughed and kept on drinking."_

_"__God, Enj, I'm sorry, that's awful." Combeferre shook his head in disbelief. "You sure you don't want to tell anyone? My parents will listen. They would know what to do." _

_"__Can we just change the subject?" Enjolras asked, his voice pleading._

_"__You need to tell someone." Courfeyrac insisted. "It's bullshit."_

_"__I don't want to talk about this anymore." Enjolras said, biting his bottom lip, glancing at Combeferre, "It's all we ever talk about."_

_"__And we are going to keep talking about it until you decide to do something." Courfeyrac replied, shoving his math book across the table, "Which might not be long because I am not going to keep keeping it a secret."_

_ "__It's my life, Courfeyrac." Enjolras said tartly, "It's my choice how I'm going to live it."_

_"__Well, your choices have been fantastic so far," Courfeyrac said his voice thick with sarcasm, "Maybe you should leave a dish out tonight and he'll break your legs." _

_"__Screw you, Courf." Enjolras said before he stormed out of the kitchen, "Do me a favor and mind your own business."_

_"__Fine by me." Courfeyrac yelled after him, jumping up, his long legs knocking over his chair, "You do me a favor and don't speak to me until you decide to man up." _

_And they didn't talk. For about a month. Combeferre did everything in his power to get them to make up, but they were both were stubborn and refused. It was only when Courfeyrac got into a freak accident on the soccer field (he had been playing on for the school team when he decided it would be a great idea to try to stop a fast moving ball with his head-which resulted in knocking him out cold) did they finally make up._

"Remember, Combeferre?" Courfeyrac's voice snapped Combeferre back into reality.

"I remember."

"I mean, I was trying to help him but all I was doing was pushing him away." Courfeyrac shrugged, "It still drives me nuts to think of everything he went through, but in the end he needed to feel some control in his life. This is kind of the same thing. He needs you of course, but he doesn't need to discuss it day in and day out, just like he didn't need to talk about his father day in and day out."

"I get your point." Combeferre sighed. "I guess I need to go home and talk to him."

"Want my advice?" Combeferre asked, winking, "Begin by telling him you got knocked out by a soccer ball."

* * *

Combeferre found Enjolras, lying on his back, sprawled across the living room floor.

"You okay?" He asked in a panic, before he was able to stop himself.

"Yeah…" Enjolras rolled over onto his stomach, looking up at him, "I was just soaking in the sun." He gestured towards the window.

"Oh, okay...Mind if I join you?"

"Yeah…" Enjolras nodded. Combeferre sat down next to him and before he had a chance to say anything Enjolras bit his lip and mumbled, "I'm sorry, Ferre."

"No, I'm sorry." Combeferre shook his head, "I didn't realize how much I've been on your case. Courfeyrac set me straight. It was a long spiel-trust me, I won't rehash it with you-but in short he made me realize I have to let you breathe a bit. As hard as it might be for me…I can't promise that I still won't boss you around, but I can definitely try not to."

"I don't want you to think I'm not grateful for everything you've done." Enjolras said, emotion settling deep into his blue eyes, "Because I definitely am. I never should have snapped at you. You certainly didn't do anything wrong. I just feel like this cancer has taken everything from me. It's humiliating not to be able to do anything I'm used to doing. It seems like a lifetime ago I was giving speeches to our friends on protecting the rights of the marginalized. Now, I can barely make it to the bathroom on my own."

"I know." Combeferre said gently, "This is all just temporary though. Things will go back to the way they used to be."

"I also feel guilty." Enjolras said, shifting slightly, tracing the carpet with his finger.

"Guilty?" Combeferre was somewhat startled, "Why on earth would you feel guilty?"

Enjolras was quiet for a moment before continuing. "Ever since I was diagnosed you've given up your own life. I mean, sure, it's a given cancer would change my life…and in a way change yours…but it's completely changed yours. Just as much as it has mine."

"Enjolras," Combeferre said, trying to choke down his emotions, "It's okay. You're my best friend."

"But you never complain." Enjolras continued, "Even when I need you in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, you're there. You sit with me for hours when I'm throwing up after having chemo. You cook everything and anything just to get me to eat. I just feel like we are sharing this cancer. I just don't want you to miss out on living your life because I'm sick."

"Enjolras," Combeferre shook his head, "It's not a problem. You'd do the same for me."

"That's what Dr. Jernett said." Enjolras said somewhat subconsciously.

"You talked to Dr. Jernett about this?" Combeferre asked, hiding a smile.

"Maybe just a bit." Enjolras said rather sheepishly.

"Well, let's make a deal. I promise to try not to micromanage your life, and you try not to feel guilty about me helping you."

"It's a deal." Enjolras said nodding

"Great." Combeferre smiled, relieved there fight was over.

"And what do you know…" Enjolras said, flashing his old world famous grin, "You didn't even have to get beamed with a soccer ball for us to make up."


	10. Chapter 10

Notes: Kiddos to DeathDaisy who brought to my attention the fact that Courfeyrac has been much left out of Enjolras and Combeferre's friendship.

* * *

"Behave yourselves." Combeferre said, giving Courfeyrac a pointed look, "I'll be back later tonight. I probably will go to the library for a while after the seminar."

"We will be _fine_." Courfeyrac said, winking at Enjolras, who gave him a slight smile back.

It was about a week into Enjolras's rest period from his chemo. Courfeyrac had dropped over the apartment (after Combeferre hinted several times throughout the week he had a seminar to attend today) and found Enjolras, sitting on the couch, looking remarkably well and healthy.

"Courf…" Combeferre began, then he caught the look of "remember what we talked about" on Courfeyrac's face and ended with, "Just try to have him in one piece when I get back."

"Aye, aye sir." Courfeyrac saluted and slid next to Enjolras on the couch, laying his head on Enjolras's shoulder. Combeferre just shook his head, grabbed his bag and disappeared down the stairs. Courfeyrac waited until he heard the door slam (and lock) and bounced his chin up and down on Enjolras's shoulder.

"God, you're boney." He teased, "So, now that the wardens out of the house, what do you want to do?"

"Try to catch up on reading." Enjolras replied, reaching out and picking up his Ethics book.

"Catch up on _reading_?" Courfeyrac laughed, "God, Combeferre has trained you well."

"I'm never going to catch up with my classes if I don't try, Courf." Enjolras said sighing, "I'm behind enough as it is."

"So?" Courfeyrac took the book from Enjolras and slid it underneath him. "I kinda think you've had more important things to do than go to class."

"Give me back my book." Enjolras said trying to pull it out from Courfeyrac with no avail.

"How you feeling today, Enj?" Courfeyrac asked, grabbing Enjolras by his wrist, easily stopping him from pulling at the book underneath him.

"Pretty good." Enjolras replied trying to pry loose of Courfeyrac's grip.

"Oh, yeah," Courfeyrac asked. "Pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah, better than I felt in weeks."

"Then why on earth would you want to sit here and just read?" Courfeyrac released Enjolras's wrists, watching his friends face and as he took in his last statement. Slowly a smile played out on Enjolras's lips.

"Well," He said slowly, "A walk wouldn't hurt…"

"That's my boy." Courfeyrac said grinning.

"I might not last long." Enjolras said cautiously.

"So?" Courfeyrac shrugged, "We'll go as long as you can. I think the fresh air will do you good."

Enjolras nodded and pushed himself off the couch, limping slightly towards the coat closet.

"My only terms are you are properly bundled up." Courfeyrac said, crossing the room in several strides, beating Enjolras to the closet with ease. "It's not super cold out, but Combeferre will have my hide if he catches you waltzing around town in a thin sweater."

"Alright." Enjolras said, shrugging, putting on his heaviest coat.

Courfeyrac hid his frown as he put on his own coat. He'd never known Enjolras to be so compliant. "Ready?" He asked, trying to sound as positive as he could. Enjolras nodded and together they walked down the stairs, out the door, and into the sunlight.

"The sun feels good." Enjolras said softly.

"Where do you want to walk to?" Courfeyrac asked.

"The park?" Enjolras suggested.

"Park sounds good." Courfeyrac agreed.

They didn't talk much on the five minute walk to the park. Once they made it there, Enjolras looked a little pale so Courfeyrac suggest they have a seat on a nearby bench.

"How you doing?" Courfeyrac asked, "Feeling alright?"

"Yeah." Enjolras nodded, "Just a little tired. It's nice to get out though."

"Nicer than 'catching up on reading'?" Courfeyrac asked, gently nudging him.

"Yeah, much nicer." Enjolras stretched out his legs and grew quiet, as he watched a pair of children climbing a tree nearby.

"Kinda looks like us when we were kids." Courfeyrac said, following Enjolras's gaze. "God, we got into so much trouble back then. Good thing Combeferre was around to get us out of most of it. Although, if can I remember correctly he wasn't exactly an angel either."

"Sometimes I miss just being a kid." Enjolras shivered slightly beside him.

"I feel ya." Courfeyrac said, taking off his jacket and throwing it over Enjolras's legs, "I wouldn't mind being able to run and play all day."

"Me either." Enjolras thanked Courfeyrac for his coat then grew quiet again.

"Is something on your mind?" Courfeyrac asked, "You're awfully quiet."

Enjolras was quiet for a minute, before he nodded, "What did you and Combeferre talk about the other day?"

"A lot of stuff." Courfeyrac shrugged, "I really don't remember specifics." He sighed when once again Enjolras grew quiet. "Okay, fine," Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, "We talked about your cancer. I advised Combeferre to back off a little. I told him that he was doing a great job taking care of you, but reminded him that he still needs to let you breathe a little. I told him it was good for _both_ of you to breathe a little."

"I figured it was something like that." Enjolras's mouth twitched upwardly slightly, "Thanks, by the way. I didn't know how to tell him without sounding ungrateful…"

"Well, I know from personal experience how well you don't do with people ordering you around." Courfeyrac reached out and patted Enjolras's cheek.

"I guess you do." Enjolras said, biting his lip slightly. "Sorry I was such a jerk to you back then. I know you were just trying to help. You know, with my dad and all…"

"Don't even think about it." Courfeyrac replied, "There's no manual on how to deal with that type of stuff."

"Guess not." Enjolras agreed, pressing his lips together.

"Is something else on your mind, my dear?" Courfeyrac asked playfully, fluttering his eyes at Enjolras. He knew that look all too well on his friend's face.

"I've missed you, Courf." Enjolras said, examining the buttons on Courfeyrac's jacket as though they were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. "Ever since I got diagnosed I feel I haven't seen you much."

Now it was Courfeyrac's turn to fall silent. The truth was he hadn't been around a lot since Enjolras's diagnosis. He wanted so badly to just blame it on his studies and being busy with trying to run the Les Amis meetings (which Enjolras had given him reign on), but he also knew that wasn't the complete truth. And he knew Enjolras well enough to know that even though he was sick, he wasn't dumb enough to fall for either of those excuses.

"I just didn't know where I fit anymore." Courfeyrac said truthfully, "I mean when you first got sick, Combeferre really took control. For probably the first time in his entire life I might add." When Enjolras didn't show any signs of smiling, Courfeyrac continued, "It just seemed the two of you had your own special club that I wasn't a part of anymore."

"Some club." Enjolras scoffed, "If you can get me out of it, let me know."

"That's only part of it." Courfeyrac rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "You just got so sick so fast, Enj….it umm…it scared me. I didn't know how to deal with it."

Enjolras fell quiet, as though he were processing what Courfeyrac just said. Then, much to Courfeyrac's surprise, he nodded.

"Thank you." He whispered, exhaling.

"Thank you?" Courfeyrac repeated, practically choking on the words.

"Yeah." Enjolras nodded, "Thank you. For your honesty. Everyone else acts like if they let on my sickness scares them, something awful will happen. Everyone has been so great and positive but no one's really been truthful on how they feel. But, I can see it in their eyes, how afraid they are. It's nice to have someone actually say it."

"Oh." Was all Courfeyrac could think to say. He certainly didn't expect to have this conversation today. And he certainly didn't think telling Enjolras his illness scared him would go over so well. He and Enjolras didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to discussing his emotions about Enjolras's wellbeing.

"Let's get some wine." Enjolras said suddenly.

"Wine?" Courfeyrac laughed in spite of himself. Enjolras was not really one to suggest drinking. In fact, he was known for pausing to give Grantaire a look of complete distain when he took chugs of his whiskey during Les Amis meetings.

"Yeah, wine." Enjolras handed Courfeyrac his jacket, "I think we both deserve a drink."

"Can you drink?" Courfeyrac asked, jumping up from the bench, trying to not sound like Combeferre.

"I don't see why a few glasses would hurt." Enjolras shrugged and began to walk towards town. "I was never told not to."

"God, Combeferre's never going to leave us alone again." Courfeyrac said with a small laugh before following Enjolras up the hill.

* * *

Combeferre came home hours later to find Enjolras, lying sound asleep out on the couch, hugging a bottle of now empty red wine to his chest. Courfeyrac was passed out on the floor next to him, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. Combeferre shook his head, and pulled the bottle out of Enjolras's grasp.

"You guys are never allowed alone again." He said with a small smile before he tossed the bottle into a nearby trash-can. He shook his head in amusement once more before turning and heading up the stairs.


	11. Chapter 11

Notes: I have been sitting on this chapter for the last couple days...let me know what you think...

* * *

The two week rest period went too quickly for Enjolras. Just as he started to feel like his old self both in mind and body, it was time to begin chemo again. As the dreaded day grew closer, Enjolras could feel his spirit begin to sink slightly. Unlike before, where Enjolras hadn't any preconceived notions about the horrors of chemotherapy, this time he knew exactly what he was facing. Prior to this first round, despite Dr. Jernetts warning of the side effects, Enjolras was convinced he'd still live his life normally. He was certain he'd still attend and perform well in his classes, run Les Amis meetings, plan rallies, and never really have to think about cancer. However, this naivety became questionable by the second treatment, and completely squashed by the third. He knew now he faced weeks of nausea, dizziness, and extreme exhaustion and fatigue.

"We should pick something fun to do the night before you have to start chemo." Combeferre suggested over breakfast, two days before the Dreaded Day.

"Wait, what?" Enjolras asked a little taken back.

"We should do something fun before you begin your chemo again." Combeferre passed Enjolras sugar for his coffee.

"Like what?" Enjolras asked, it dawning on him Combeferre was trying hard not to be overbearing.

"Well, nothing too crazy. Maybe we can have everyone over or something."

"Sure." Enjolras shrugged, sipping his coffee and succeeding in burning his tongue in the process, "Sounds good to me."

"Great." Combeferre smiled, "I'll talk to everyone today."

Enjolras smiled back, knowing more than likely Combeferre had already preplanned this "gathering."

* * *

Sure enough, the next night everyone showed up at Combeferre's and Enjolras's apartment. Most brought small gifts with them.

Marius and Cosette arrived with a new hat in tow (the same style but grey this time instead of black) and a bunch of baked goods.

"I tried to make them somewhat bland." Cosette cautioned, after kissing Enjolras lightly on the cheek, "I figured they might help settle your stomach."

Enjolras had thanked her, feeling his ears turning red, hating that it was now common knowledge how sick the chemo made him.

Joly came with a box filled with herbs, swearing up and down they were to help with pain and nausea.

"You should brew it tea." He said, "Use about a half a teaspoon for each cup. It's strong, but it should help you tolerate the chemo a little better."

Jehan brought a book of poems.

"I marked my favorites." He said, handing Enjolras the worn read book, "Since I won't be there tomorrow, maybe you can read over them yourself."

Courfeyrac, who had insisted on taking Enjolras to his appointment, showed up with a handful of flowers, which Enjolras thought he recognized from the neighbors porch.

"I wanted to symbolize your beauty in my life." Courfeyrac both grinned and winked at Enjolras, "Don't mind the dirt."

"Are those from—" Combeferre began, but was cut off by Courfeyrac who dug into the bunch of baked goods, making a face.

"No offense, Cosette." He said, chewing as though it pained him, "But those practically have no taste."

Grantaire quite predictably brought nothing, but himself. He barely exchanged any words with Enjolras-besides telling him he'd drop off his reading assignments-and sat down next to Joly, looking uncomfortable.

"So," Combeferre said, once everyone was seated and eating some of the food he'd put out, "As you know, I gathered everyone here to wish Enjolras luck into going into his second round of chemo."

"Oh, _he's_ who the party is for?" Courfeyrac asked, pointing at Enjolras, causing everyone to laugh.

"The purpose of tonight," Combeferre continued, completely ignoring Courfeyrac, "Is to enjoy one another's company, eat and drink lots, and make it a night to remember."

"Here, here" Courfeyrac said, taking his glass of wine and banging it into Combeferre's. Once again everyone laughed. Combeferre just shook his head, and then everyone did as he had asked. They enjoyed just spending time together, ate and drank till they thought they'd burst, and did their best to make Enjolras as well as themselves forget what tomorrow held.

* * *

"It kind of sucks he has to go through another round of that shit." Grantaire said to Courfeyrac as they stopped at a local bar for a drink later that night.

"Tell me about it." Courfeyrac replied, "I can't stand to see him so sick."

"Is this round going to be as bad as the first?" The image of Enjolras, shivering uncontrollably in Combeferre's arms, flashed in Grantaire's mind

"I think so." Courfeyrac sighed.

Grantaire shook his head, as he remembered the first time he'd met Enjolras. The two had collided (literally) during freshman orientation. Grantaire had been rushing to grab his books before the school store closed and Enjolras had been walking backward, talking a mile a minute to Combeferre and Courfeyrac (Grantaire still didn't what about, but now guessed it had to do with saving some sort of chastised group) when the two slammed into one another. Grantaire, who had been running with his head slightly down looked up just enough to crash with Enjolras's backside. He tripped over Enjolras, who in turn fell. The two tumbled into the grass, and sat up, Grantaire angry and Enjolras startled, and looked at one another.

_"__You should really watch where you're going." Grantaire had snapped. He couldn't help but immediately notice the beauty of the young man he'd just run into. _

_"__Me?" Enjolras gasped, "You slammed into me!"_

_"__How would you know? You were walking backward." Grantaire pointed out._

_"__Hey," Combeferre said in reasoning tone, adjusting his glasses, "It was an accident. No one's hurt, so how about we just move on, huh?"_

_"__I guess this is what they refer to as a crash course." Courfeyrac joked, pulling Enjolras up, before extending his hand towards Grantaire, who shook off his help and stood up on his own._

_The two then strangers glared at one another before they both turned and walked in opposite directions._

As it turned out, fate wouldn't allow them to be strangers for long. They ended up being in a lot of the same classes. The first term in their "Inquiry" class, they were assigned to do a project together and ended up fighting so much they both nearly failed the course. It wasn't until Combeferre stepped in after a heated argument at the apartment, and told them both they were both being stubborn and idiotic, did they finally come up with a compromise. Oddly Grantaire somewhat came to enjoy the relationship he developed with Enjolras throughout that first semester. As much as he was annoyed by Enjolras, he also greatly captivated by him. There was something about him that drew Grantaire's interests. More than he was willing to admit to anyone.

The heated arguments didn't cease when they began running in the same circle of friends (Courfeyrac had made friends with Joly who was Grantaire's roommate). Somehow, no matter how hard Grantaire tried, Enjolras always managed to get in the last word, swaying everyone to his side. As a result Grantaire had spent much time dreaming of wiping the smug smile of victory off of Enjolras's face. However, now that he'd seen Enjolras wear the look of complete defeat, he never wanted to see it again.

"I am afraid I'm not going to say or do the right things tomorrow." Courfeyrac continued swirling the whiskey around in his glass.

"You're one of his closest friends." Grantaire responded, "I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Yeah…but comfort is more Combeferre's strong suits." Courfeyrac shrugged, "I'm more the "fix-it" type of guy. It drives me crazy I can't fix this. He doesn't deserve it."

"No one who has cancer deserves it." Grantaire said a little harsher than he intended.

"No, you're right." Courfeyrac said tensely, "But Enjolras has had enough to deal with in his life. Cancer shouldn't have been added to the list."

"What could the Golden Boy really have had to deal with?" Grantaire couldn't resist asking, "I mean, I doubt he ever had so much as a blemish."

"You'd be surprised." Courfeyrac responded rather coldly, "Believe me. Things haven't always been as you think."

"What things?" Grantaire asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "What did he get stood up at the kindergarten dance?"

"Let's just drop it." Courfeyrac paused wearily, "I've already said too much. Besides, I should really head home. I have to be ready for tomorrow."

"Okay." Grantaire said somewhat bewildered, watching as Courfeyrac hastily paid his tab and gulped down the rest of his drink, "Well, good luck tomorrow."

* * *

As Grantaire lay in bed that night, woozy off of the amount of alcohol he'd just consumed, he couldn't stop relieving his conversation with Courfeyrac. The hint of Enjolras's life being less than picture-perfect was a foreign concept. After all, how could someone, who was so seemingly perfect, be anything but?


	12. Chapter 12

"How you feeling?" Courfeyrac asked Enjolras nervously as he watched a nurse hook up the apparatus on his chest to an IV bag.

"The same as when you asked five minutes ago?" Enjolras gave him an amused look, "I'll feel fine until later. You'll know when I start to feel sick."

"So what's that?" Courfeyrac pointed to the device on Enjolras's chest.

"My chemo port." Enjolras touched it lightly, "It puts the chemo into my blood stream without having to sit with a needle in my hand every time I get treatment. Remember when I had it put in in the very beginning?"

"Yeah…" Courfeyrac trailed, feeling a little embarrassed as well as guilty for not knowing, "I remember…I just never saw what it looked like before."

"It's a pretty nifty device." Enjolras continued. He shifted slightly as the nurse adjusted the IV bag, causing the liquid to begin to flow from the bag, down into the tube, and into his port, "My doctors can draw blood from it too."

"So it's like a portal." Courfeyrac reasoned.

"Yeah," Enjolras said, after he thought about it for a minute, "Pretty much."

"You have no idea how many people I know would pay to be that port." Courfeyrac said, only realizing the distastefulness of his joke after the nurse raised her eyebrow at him.

"The Les Amis does need to figure out funding…" Enjolras said with a grin.

"So now what happens?" Courfeyrac said, watching as nurse exited the room, shaking her head.

"Now we just wait." Enjolras replied.

"So you just hang out pretty much with that stuff dripping into your chest."

"Pretty much..." Enjolras gave him a weary smile, "It's beyond exciting, I know. You can go if you want. It'll take a few hours."

"No." Courfeyrac said, leaning over and patting Enjolras's knee, "I'm with you, kid."

"I never thought I'd get so lucky." Enjolras said winking at him.

"Yes, your prayers have been answered and your dreams have come true." Courfeyrac responded, rolling his eyes.

* * *

It didn't take long for Enjolras to begin to feel the side effects of the chemotherapy. He was barely out the hospital doors when he made a beeline for a nearby bush and was immediately sick.

"It didn't happen this fast last time." He said almost defensively, still hunched over.

"I'm going to get you water." Courfeyrac said in response. He left Enjolras's side, returning quickly, nearly spilling the cup of water on the sidewalk.

"Thanks." Enjolras said, taking a small sip, standing up slowly.

"You alright?" Courfeyrac asked worriedly. Suddenly he wished that Combeferre was there. He would know exactly what to do. He'd think of something comforting to say. The only thing Courfeyrac felt like doing was to go back into the hospital, find this Dr. Jernett, and demanded to know why the drugs he gave Enjolras to cure him made him so incredibly and rapidly ill.

"Yeah…." Enjolras closed his eyes slightly, "I'm umm…I'm just really dizzy."

"Let's get you home." Courfeyrac replied. He led Enjolras to the car, and practically lifted him up in the passenger's side, and then he ran around the car, jumped into the driver's seat and sped away.

"Can you please go slower?" Enjolras said softly next to him, "The bumps in the road…they make…they make my stomach worse."

"Yeah, sure." Courfeyrac slowed down to a little till they were going below the speed limit.

"Courf…" Enjolras mumbled after a few moments of silence, "I have to throw up again."

"Here," Courfeyrac said glancing at Enjolras who was turning grey, "Let me pull over."

Courfeyrac barely stopped the car before Enjolras opened the door, dropped to his knees and was sick again. Courfeyrac climbed over both seats, thankful for his long legs, and sank down next to him.

"God, Enj." He said softly as Enjolras sat up a little, breathing hard, "I'm so _so_ sorry."

"I think I can make it home." Enjolras said, pushing himself up slowly.

Courfeyrac nodded, once again helped his friend into the car, and drove away, blinking back tears.

* * *

Later that day Combeferre came home from his classes to find Courfeyrac sitting at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall, his chin resting on his long legs.

"Hey…." Combeferre said, dropping his book bag, "How'd it go?"

"He got sick." Courfeyrac's voice cracked.

"Already….?" Combeferre breathed. He sat down next to Courfeyrac, sighing.

"Like really sick…" Courfeyrac continued, rubbing his lips together, "He threw up twice on the way home and then like three more times after that. He kept saying he was really dizzy. He's finally sleeping."

"Damn it." Combeferre said suddenly, with such anger he made Courfeyrac jump. He ripped off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I was hoping this time he wouldn't be sick so soon."

"Is it bad that he is?" Courfeyrac asked, his concern growing even greater than it already was.

"I don't think so." Combeferre shrugged, "Dr. Jernett did explain from the beginning every round would be tougher just because of the potency and the wear it has on his body…I was just hoping against hope that maybe last time was somewhat of a fluke somehow." He took a deep breath, before looking at Courfeyrac. "Why out of all of us did it have to be him?"

"I know how you feel." Courfeyrac said rubbing the scruff of his five o'clock shadow, "It just seems unfair somehow. I mean Enjolras….he's just…he finally has a good thing going…he's away from his father, he's making something of himself, he's got one of the best hearts I know. It just doesn't seem right somehow…"

"I guess cancer doesn't care." Combeferre said bitterly.

"No…." Courfeyrac said, taken back a little by the anger in Combeferre's tone. He wasn't used to seeing his friend be anything but calm, collective, and rational. "I guess it doesn't."


	13. Chapter 13

"Combeferre!" Combeferre was at the café when he heard someone calling his name. Turning, he broke out into a huge grin when he saw his parents standing in the doorway. Forgetting for a moment he was a grown man, he left his freshly brewed coffee on the counter and ran to them, and embraced them both in a hug.

"It's good to see you son," Arthur said, "We've missed you."

"You look good dear." Claire added, patting her son on the cheek.

"I didn't know you guys were coming!" Combeferre said, hugging them both again.

"It was spur of the moment." Arthur explained, "I had some vacation to take, and after discussing it with your mother we figured, why not take it now and come see our boys."

"Where is Enjolras?" Claire asked.

"At home." Combeferre rubbed the back of his neck, "I think Courfeyrac is actually with him."

"Well, if you don't mind, let's head back there." Claire linked her arm in Combeferre's. "I for one would love to see the both of them and catch up all of you."

"And I would like to see where my sons are residing." Arthur said smiling and patting Combeferre on the head.

"So," Claire asked as they began to head down the street. "How is school?"

"It's great." Combeferre said, "I really feel like it's been a good fit for me. I have brilliant professors and really like what I'm studying."

"That's wonderful, honey." His mom gave him a warm smile. "And friends are good?"

"Yes, I really couldn't ask for a better group."

"And how is Enjolras?"

Combeferre sighed, stopping short at his mother's question. Without intending to, he could feel his eyes start to well with tears.

"Oh, my god, honey…." Claire glanced worriedly at her husband, "What is it?"

Combeferre shook his head, ducking into a side street, his parents following close behind him.

"It's Enjolras." He said softly, leaning against wall of a brick building.

"He's doing okay, isn't he?" Claire asked, "He's been telling us he's doing alright."

"Well, he lied to you." Combeferre snapped. "Because the truth is he's not alright!"

"What are you talking about, son?" Arthur asked with confusion.

"God, I didn't even think about it." Combeferre shook his head, "I've really been too busy to talk to you-which by the way I apologize for-but it never dawned on me that he'd _lie_ to you on how he was doing."

"So he'd not okay, then?" Claire asked, her voice skipping with emotion.

"No." Combeferre shook his head, "Not at all." He then burst into tears, sobbing into his hands.

"Oh, my gosh, sweetheart!" Claire immediately took her son into her arms, holding him close. Combeferre felt like he was a little kid again and he'd fallen and scraped his knee.

"He's so sick, Mamme." Combeferre said through his tears. "He's so sick it scares me."

"What are his doctors saying?" Claire asked, giving Combeferre a tissue from her purse.

"His doctor, Dr. Jernett, said that this is all normal." Combeferre shuttered, "I just don't see how throwing up and being dizzy all the time is normal. Not to mention he's lost a ton of weight."

"The boy didn't have enough bulk to begin with." Arthur responded, glancing at Claire.

"No," Combeferre agreed with a sigh, "But he was always strong. Even during all that stuff with his father, I never doubted his resiliency. Now there are days he can't even get out of bed on his own."

"Why don't we just head over your place, son." Arthur said, "I'd like to see this all for myself."

* * *

"You'll find him much changed." Combeferre said as he and his parents arrived at the apartment. "Please try not to be obvious about it." He started up the stairs, feeling his father's comforting hand on his shoulder.

Courfeyrac was sitting on the couch, reading his school book (from back to front no less). Enjolras was sleeping beside him, curled up in a ball. He heard his mother gasp slightly and his father squeezed his shoulder a little tighter.

"Hey Courf." Combeferre whispered, knowing his friend was lost in his (backward) reading. It took Combeferre a few more times to get Courfeyrac's attention. Finally Courfeyrac looked up, his face lighting up when he saw Arthur and Claire.

"What are you guys doing here?!" He yelled jumping off of the couch. After getting a sharp "shhhh" from Combeferre, he asked again, this time lowering his voice and looking like a scolded puppy.

"We decide to drop in for a visit." Arthur said shaking Courfeyrac's hand, obviously distracted by the very pale Enjolras sleeping on the couch.

"How was he today?" Combeferre asked in a whisper.

"I don't know man," Courfeyrac shrugged, stretching slightly, "He slept most of the time I was here. I mean we talked a bit, but he kept dozing off."

"It must be the new medication." Combeferre reasoned, "His pain's been pretty bad. So, the other day when we went for his checkup, Dr. Jernett prescribed him something to help. He did caution us it would make him groggy and tired."

"Well, I'm glad that's it." Courfeyrac joked, slapping his knee, "I just figured he'd just grown bored of listening to me."

They all laughed, mostly at Courfeyrac's poor attempt at a joke.

"Do you guys want coffee?" Combeferre asked in a rush. He headed into the kitchen, not even waiting for an answer. Without being asked, Courfeyrac and his parents followed him and jammed around the little table in the kitchen. Combeferre had just begun pouring everyone some when a very sleepy Enjolras stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

"I smell coffee." He said, his eyes still half closed, leaning against the wall for support.

"Well, well." Arthur said, clearing his throat, winking at Combeferre, "Look who decided to grace us with his presence."

Enjolras's eyes flickered slightly until the realization of who the voice belonged to reached his brain. He then opened his eyes, first looking confused, and then lighting up with big smile (bigger that Combeferre has seen in months).

"When did you guys get here?" He asked, rather sheepishly, as both Arthur and Claire got up, and wrapped him in a long hug.

"Just a few hours ago." Arthur answered. "We didn't want to disturb you since you were getting your beauty rest." It was common between the two for Arthur to tease Enjolras about his looks.

"Here, sweet boy", Claire motioned for Courfeyrac to slide over on the bench, "Let's have a seat." Enjolras did as he was told, looking slightly uneasy.

"So, um…" Enjolras shifted nervously in his chair, "I guess you guys see I've umm….not exactly been honest in how I'm doing…"

"Yes." Arthur answered truthfully, sitting next to him, "We can see that. Why the deception?"

"I don't know…." Enjolras glanced at Combeferre for help, but all he got in return was a shrug. "I guess I didn't want you guys to worry about me. I didn't want to be a bother."

"Let's get one thing straight." Arthur reached out and clasping Enjolras's hands in his, "You are our son. You have been long before you came to live with us. You would never be a bother to either one of us."

"We love you honey." Claire said, gently rubbing Enjolras back. That's all it took for a few tears to escape from Enjolras's eyes. He bent his head down, crying softly into his lap. "It will all be okay darling." Claire hugged him to her, "This is just a temporary phase in your life. You'll be healthy and strong again."

"Have you seen my father?" Enjolras asked changing the subject, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.

"I went to see him about a month or two ago." Arthur said his voice and shoulders tensing up slightly, "I didn't give him any details, but he knows your ill."

"Did he care?" Enjolras whispered, studying his hands.

"Geez Enjolras!" Courfeyrac snapped, making everyone jump, "When are you going to stop caring what that bastard has to say!" Courfeyrac turned red when his eyes fell on Claire. "Sorry," He muttered.

"Did he care?" Enjolras asked again, this time looking right into Arthur's eyes.

Arthur sighed and leaned back in his chair, "He slammed the door in my face, Enjolras."

Enjolras swallowed, the shock realization of his father's coldness washing over him once again.

* * *

"I don't get it." Courfeyrac said, as he, Combeferre, and Arthur went on a walk later that night. "Why does he still care what his father thinks? If it were me, I wouldn't want him to know anything about me. God, it's not me and I don't want that monster knowing anything about _him_."

Arthur thought for a while before he answered, "Well, Courfeyrac. I believe that regardless of the relationship children will always love their parents."

"But he _beat_ him." Courfeyrac said bewilderingly, "He beat him almost every day of his life."

"But that's still _his_ father." Arthur said pointedly.

"Well, I don't understand it." Courfeyrac looked at Combeferre, "Do you?"

"No." Combeferre shook his head, "I don't."

"My dad left the family when I was two." Courfeyrac said, "I don't wonder if he thinks about me. I don't feel some undying faithfulness to him just because he's my father."

"I'll be honest with you, Dad," Combeferre cut in, "If you treated me like Monsieur Lillminette treated Enj, I can't say I'd want anything to do with you."

"You don't know how you'd feel until you're in that situation." Arthur said calmly, "Just like most things in life, you are limited to your own experiences. You don't know what your reaction would be for sure unless it happens to you."

"But—" Courfeyrac began, stopping as Arthur held up his hand.

"We can debate this all night." He said, "But I'm stopping the conversation at this; the last thing Enjolras needs is judgment from his friends. Because, it's quite clear, no matter what happened between them, there is obviously a still big part of Enjolras that cares deeply for his father. He doesn't need you to understand or even agree with that but he does need your support. I also think that when one has to face his own mortality, the views on situations or relationships can change."

Courfeyrac looked at Combeferre who shrugged.

As much as Courfeyrac respected Arthur, there was no way in hell he'd ever understand or support Enjolras's desperate need for his father's affection.


	14. Chapter 14

**Note: Thank you for all your wonderful reviews...they really mean the world to me. I'm not sure if I want to add anything else to this chapter on Enjolras's thoughts about his father or just put them in another chapter. I'll figure it out though.**

* * *

As Enjolras lay in bed that night, Arthur's words of his father's reaction to his illness echoed in his mind. He couldn't say he was surprised-he wasn't foolish enough for that-but as much as he hated to admit it, his father resentment toward him still stung.

As far back as Enjolras could remember his father hated him. Enjolras never knew a time where his father didn't tell him at least daily how disappointed he was to have a son "such as him". When he was younger, he tried everything and anything just to make his father happy. He played football (which he himself despised), soccer, tried to make good grades, and so on, but nothing seemed to make a difference. His father always found something to pick on, or something to yell about, regardless of how small or trivial.

His mother, Ariane, wasn't any help when it came to his father ruthlessness towards him. Whenever Phillipe would fly into a rage, she would either lock herself into her room, or disappear into the night, leaving Enjolras, at the age of eight to face his father on his own. Enjolras didn't blame her for it. Not really. He knew his dad hit her too. Despite her abandonment of him, Enjolras loved his mother, and still did his best to protect her. In fact, he found himself doing things to purposely piss his father off (like spilling his milk cup), just so that his mother would be left alone. By the time Enjolras was twelve, his mother was barely home. She claimed she had to work late, or had to help a friend in need. One day, when Enjolras had just turned thirteen, she'd come home in a rush, packed her bags, kissed him goodbye and ran out the door. He hadn't seen or heard from her since. There were rumors that she'd run off with some man, but Enjolras knew-even if that were true- what she was really running from.

His mother's absence only deepened his father's rage. Enjolras remember very clearly, being yanked out of bed in the middle of the night, with his father screaming that he was the reason Ariane left town.

_"__She couldn't bear to look at you." _His dad would yell in his face._ "You were such a disappointment to her!"_ Then his father would abruptly change his course of action and blame Enjolras for his crumbled marriage, _"We were fine until you were born. She stopped loving me the minute she had you."_

Enjolras would remain silent during these sessions. Eventually his dad would lose his steam, punch him hard in the chest and walk out of the room like nothing happened. Enjolras would then turn off the light, crawl into bed, and do his best to fall back asleep, knowing there would be a repeat performance the following night.

He hid the abuse from his friends mainly out of shame. He felt like the bruises and scars were evidence of his own failures and weaknesses. The secret wasn't hard to keep, especially because his father was careful never to hit him in the face. It wasn't until one day, right before his mother left, that his father's cruelty was discovered. From that point on, the dynamics between the three changed. Courfeyrac, who Enjolras never saw be anything but comical, positioned himself as Enjolras's personal protector. He was constantly spouting off how Enjolras needed to tell someone about the abuse, and that he himself would personally beat up his father. Combeferre on the other hand would look at him with such pity and sadness Enjolras could hardly stand it. Then there were the secret meetings Courfeyrac and Combeferre seemed to feel the need to have. Enjolras knew it concerned him because he would walk into a room and the two, who had been whispering would suddenly stop when they saw him. Enjolras knew deep in his heart and in the rational part of his brain that they were both just looking out for him, but he hated how he was treated like their personal project.

It didn't help of course that he was always comparing his relationship with his father to that of Combeferre and Arthur's. Where his father treated him with brutality and insults, Arthur gave nothing but love and encouragements. In place of beatings for wrong doings, Arthur used reason and understanding. He constantly insisted that without mistakes you couldn't grow. He of course would express his disappointment, but hardly ever raised his voice. As they grew, Enjolras couldn't help but resent Combeferre for the relationship he and his father shared. He knew, deep in his heart that part of him still resented him, even now.

Sighing, Enjolras rolled over, trying to drown out his thoughts. He hated how desperate and needy he became at the mere thought of his father. He knew Courfeyrac was right. After everything that had happened between them, he shouldn't care about what his father thought. He had wonderful friends who he knew cared about him, as well as Arthur and Claire, who loved him as if he were their own son.

He reached over to take a drink from his water cup, frowning when he realized the cup was empty. He figured he might as well go fill his cup, actually hoping the walk would tire him out enough to fall fast asleep. Slowly, he swung his sore legs over the edge of the bed, then using the dresser, and then the wall for support, crept down the stairs.

He was surprised to see the kitchen light was on. Squinting his eyes slightly her recognized the silhouette of Arthur sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hi." He said softly, as his eyes adjusted to the light of the room.

"Enjolras!" Arthur jumped about a foot, "Are you alright? What are you doing up?"

"I needed water." Enjolras replied, showing Arthur his empty cup.

"Here, you sit down." Arthur practically pushed Enjolras into the nearest seat to him at the table, "I'll get it for you." He took the cup from Enjolras's hand and filled it.

"What are you doing up?" Enjolras asked, once Arthur handed him back the cup.

"Oh, I was reading." Arthur motioned to the book on the table, "As I get older, I find myself more and more being able to sleep less and less. When I'm at home, I often sneak into the study and read for a few hours. To me, reading has always been very calming."

Enjolras nodded, taking a sip of his water.

"I want to apologize to you." Arthur said, "If I was harsh about your father. I knew you'd ask me….I wasn't sure how to respond other than be truthful."

"It's okay." Enjolras felt himself hardening a bit.

"Don't shut down." Arthur said pointedly, "Remember, we discussed long ago, sharing your thoughts is a good thing."

Enjolras grew quite for a minute,

"I just don't know why I always expect a different response." He said finally.

"I think you _hope_ for a different response." Arthur said

"I guess that's a better way to say it." Enjolras said, biting on his lip.

"Don't be hard on yourself for hoping, Enjolras." Arthur said gently, "No matter what happened between you, Phillip is still your father. It's normal to feel what you feel."

Enjolras sighed and studied his hands. "It just makes me feel pathetic. I wish I could be like Courfeyrac is with his father. I hate caring."

Arthur was quiet for a minute. Then he cleared his throat, "I want to tell you something." He said gingerly. "I don't share this with many people. In fact, Combeferre doesn't even know, so I'm going to ask if you can just keep it between us, okay?"

"Sure." Enjolras shrugged.

"My childhood wasn't exactly a happy one either. My mother was hospitalized several times due to paranoia and hallucinations. By the third time, my father fell apart. He drank from sun up till sundown and lacked any ability of holding a job. Being the oldest of three, I had to find work to support my family. My mother came home eventually, but nothing was the same. My father passed on soon after she came home so I continued to work. I'd come home to find her back into a corner, screaming death was coming for her. Any of us who tried to help her would get things thrown at them. If she could get close enough she'd punch us with her fists. It was living a nightmare so to speak."

"Arthur, I'm sorry…" Enjolras didn't know what else to say as he took in Arthur's story.

"My point is not for you to feel sorry for me, but to understand I know where you are coming from. After everything I went through, I still wanted my mother in my life. I invited her to Claire's and my wedding, and called her when Combeferre was first born. Neither of which she showed up for. So, I understand how you are feeling."

"Why didn't you ever tell me before?" Enjolras asked delicately.

"I'm honestly not sure…" Arthur thought for a minute, "Maybe because I just wasn't ready to share it …or maybe because I didn't want to make the situation you were in about me."

"Where's your mother now?" Enjolras inquired.

"She passed away about five years ago."

"Did you guys ever resolve things?" Enjolras felt like he already knew the answer.

"No." Arthur shook his head. "We never did."

Enjolras let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in and leaned back in his chair, "I'm really sorry, Arthur…"

"We all have difficulties in life, Enjolras. It's like I always told you boys; it is how we deal with those difficulties that matter." Arthur reached out and patted Enjolras's hand, "Now, that's enough talk for tonight. It's late and you need your rest. Let's get you into bed."

Enjolras nodded, allowing Arthur to help him up. He leaned against him as they made it up the stairs and into his room.

"No more wondering in the moonlight." Arthur said somewhat sternly as Enjolras climbed into bed. "I'll see you in the morning."

As Enjolras lay back against the pillow, he thought about the story that Arthur had shared with him. He hated to think that a man, who without a second thought had taken in a boy, in badly need of shelter, love and care knew such sadness in his own life.


	15. Chapter 15

When Grantaire stopped by to give Enjolras his reading assignment and a woman answered he momentarily thought he'd gone to the wrong apartment. A split second later however, Combeferre came bounding down the stairs.

"Grantaire, this is my Mom, Claire." Combeferre said in a rush, "Mom this is one of my friends Grantaire."

The two exchanged a quick hello, as Combeferre pulled on his shoes, stumbling slightly into the wall.

"You here to give Enj his reading?" Combeferre asked, as he tugged on his coat.

"Yeah." Grantaire said, "It's a pretty hefty load this time; Chapters eight to eleven."

"Give him half of what he's supposed to read." Combeferre said shortly.

"He'll be pissed if he finds out." Grantaire said hesitantly.

"Then don't let him find out. I promised him I'd back off, but he's got chemo tomorrow. He can't be pushing himself."

"Whatever you think is best, Combeferre." Grantaire said with a shrug. Personally, he felt Enjolras should make his own choice if he could do the entire reading or not. Grantaire knew it would annoy the hell out of Enjolras if he found out what Combeferre asked him to do and more so that he went along with it. However, after witnessing Combeferre's care of Enjolras a few weeks ago, he knew he should try to respect his request.

"Well, I have to go." Combeferre leaned over and kissed his mother.

"Honey," Claire said, "You have more than a half an hour to get to class. You yourself told me it's less than a ten minute walk, I'm sure you'll make it."

"I want to make sure I get a good seat." Combeferre said, with a shrug. Grantaire swore he saw Claire try to hide a smile. "You and Enjolras try not to kill each other." Combeferre said to Grantaire as he grabbed his back bag and headed out the door.

"Well, Enjolras is sleeping so can I get you some tea and pancakes?" Claire asked.

"Sure." Grantaire shrugged, feeling slightly awkward having breakfast with Combeferre's mother, but at the same time feeling awkward not doing so.

"So you're a good friend of Combeferre and Enjolras?" Claire asked as they began their walk up the stairs.

"I guess you can say that." Grantaire said, "I mean, more so Courfeyrac and Combeferre than Enjolras."

"Oh," Claire said, as she poured tea first for Grantaire and then herself.

"We just see the world very differently." Grantaire said, feeling he needed to explain himself

"Enjolras lets you get in your view points about how you see the world." Claire said, looking up at him and smiling. "Don't take it too personally, Grantaire. Enjolras just…he hasn't always exactly been allowed to express himself. When he gets an idea in his head-and mind you normally I find his ideas admirable-he has a tough time not actively pursuing it. Or pushing his ideas on everyone around him."

"This is true." Grantaire said, with a laugh.

"That's one thing I love most about Enjolras though," Claire said, "Is his heart. He has such a passion for what he believes in."

"So you've known Enjolras for a long time?"

"Yes, since he was about three." Claire smiled, "I know I wasn't his momma, but I have to say, he was about the cutest three-year old I'd ever seen. Besides Combeferre of course."

"I believe it." Grantaire said, before he could stop himself. He could feel his face instantly turning bright red. Claire luckily didn't seem to notice his last comment and continued to tell him a story about the time Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac all tried to surprise her by painting the powder room on the first floor of her house.

"It was a complete disaster." Claire said, laughing, "I mean, paint was everywhere. It was all over the sink, on the floor. And mind you, they picked pink paint. There is actually still some left on the floor that we were never able to get up. I couldn't be mad though. I mean, how could I be with Enjolras looking at me very apologetically with those blue eyes."

"I think half the reason people listen to him so much is because of his looks." Grantaire admitted with a laugh. "I swear he could say suggest lighting the whole town on fire, and people would just follow him." Claire laughed at his comment and was about to say something else with Enjolras suddenly stumbled into the kitchen.

"Why are you here?" Enjolras said, groggily rubbing his eyes, obviously directing the question at Grantaire.

"Hello to you too." Grantaire said laughing slightly, hoping Enjolras hadn't heard what he'd just said. "And I'm here to give you your reading assignment."

"Come have some breakfast, honey." Claire said, reaching her arm out to him.

"Okay." Enjolras nearly tripped over the bottom of his pajama pants, mainly because he wasn't fully awake and partly because his pants no longer fit him properly at the waist. Grantaire knew Enjolras had lost weight (Combeferre was constantly stressing over it) but he hadn't realized how much until now. This was mainly because Enjolras wasn't bulky to begin with and partly because he wore several layers of clothing. However, looking at him in just in his pajama pants and white tee-shirt the weight loss was obvious.

"How'd you sleep?" Claire asked rubbing Enjolras's back as he sank into a chair.

"Pretty good." Enjolras rubbed his eyes again, "How about you?"

"Great, honey." Claire placed a few pancakes on a plate and slid it towards Enjolras.

"I slept great too." Grantaire said which awarded him a glare from Enjolras.

"Do you want syrup?" Claire asked getting up to get the syrup from the cabinet, oblivious (or ignoring) the distain on Enjolras's face.

"No." Enjolras shook his head, "It's made me queasy lately."

"Oh." Claire quickly put it back in the cupboard. "Well, we'll keep it in there then."

"Thanks." Enjolras said sheepishly. He pulled his sweater off of the chair next to him and wrapped himself in it, shivering slightly.

"How was class?" Enjolras said, finally looking in Grantaire's direction.

"Long." Grantaire shrugged, "The discussion was boring. Trust me, you're not missing much."

"What are you studying, Grantaire?" Claire asked.

"Law." Grantaire said, "Same as Enjolras. Only his idea of law is defending the misfits of society and writing laws to help the greatly marginalized."

"And Grantaire's idea of law is showing up hung over as his own defense attorney for public intoxication." Enjolras replied.

"Enjolras..." Claire said with a tone that clearly suggested she wasn't pleased with what he just said. Grantaire snickered as Enjolras hung his head, looking like a child who'd just gotten caught eating cookies before dinner. "What made you decide to study law?" Claire asked, putting more pancakes on Grantaire's plate to replace the ones he'd already ate.

"I don't know." Grantaire thought for a minute, "It just sounded interesting to me. Plus, I love to argue."

"Do you enjoy your classes?" Claire was obviously trying to show interest in Grantaire's life.

"Not really." Grantaire shrugged, "I mean classes are classes. I'm ready to just do my own thing once I get out of school. I just kind of want that degree."

"I can understand that." Claire smiled, "School isn't fun for everyone. As long as you're going to class though and making something of yourself I'd say you're doing quite well."

"Thanks." Grantaire could see where Combeferre got his kindness from. Claire then turned her focus on Enjolras, frowning slightly. Grantaire could see why; Enjolras had ripped his pancakes into small pieces, but from the looks of the amount on his plate, he hadn't taken a bite.

"Enj, honey, eat." Claire said, pointing to Enjolras's plate.

"I'm not hungry." Enjolras said quietly, moving his pancakes around with a fork.

"Enjolras, you need to eat." Claire said, her voice full of concern, "You have to keep your strength up. You need to put some weight back on."

"Why?" Enjolras said, somewhat tartly, "I'll lose it all tomorrow anyway."

"Let's think positively, okay." Claire said. "I'm not going to worry about tomorrow and I don't want you to either. Like we always talked about, let's live this moment for the moment it is."

"You're right." Enjolras sighed, and looked at Claire, "I'm sorry. I'm just feeling low today."

"You're allowed." Claire got up, wrapped her arms around Enjolras, hugging him. "Now, what would you like for dinner? I'm going to head to the market."

"You don't have to cook for me." Enjolras replied.

"I want to." Claire kissed him on his cheek and began putting her coat on, "Besides, I miss cooking for you boys. It's kind of boring just cooking for Arthur and myself."

"Well…if you insist." Enjolras flashed an old smile, "How about your meatballs?"

"That sounds excellent to me." Claire said smiling, "Grantaire, you're more than welcome to join. If Courfeyrac stops in, be sure to invite him too."

"She's nice." Grantaire said, once Claire had left.

"Yeah, she is. One of the nicest people I know. If people wonder why Ferre is so nice, all they have to do is meet his parents."

"Is his dad just as nice?" Grantaire asked.

"Yeah." Enjolras nodded, "I would love to be half the man Arthur is one day." Enjolras must have realized how freely he was talking to Grantaire because he suddenly stiffened. "I'm going to lie down on the couch." He said, getting up.

"You must have spent a lot of time at Combeferre's growing up." Grantaire said, following Enjolras into the living room.

"What makes you say that?" Enjolras asked, turning around so quickly he almost fell over.

"Because she seems to know you really well?" Grantaire said, a little taken back. "And she mentioned she misses cooking for you."

"Oh." If Grantaire didn't know better, he would have sworn Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I did spend a lot of time at Combeferre's when I was younger." Enjolras sank down onto the couch, stretched out his legs, and wrapped himself in a blanket.

"I bet if you ate you wouldn't be so cold." Grantaire said, sitting down on the other couch.

"And I bet if you didn't talk you wouldn't be annoying." Enjolras snapped. Then he sighed, "I'm sorry, Grantaire. I'm just not feeling the best today."

"It's fine." Grantaire shrugged, "You're always this pleasant with me, so I don't see a difference."

A small smile slowly crossed Enjolras's lips.

"I suppose that's true."

"Anyway," Grantaire stretched his body, "You need to get yourself back to normal here. Class is boring without having you to argue with me."

"I'd give anything to be normal." Enjolras replied, shocked a little at Grantaire's comment and even more at his own. He and Grantaire still have never discussed his having cancer. And to be honest, Enjolras didn't really want to start now.

"Anyway," Grantaire said, as if he read Enjolras's mind. "You would be bored in class. We are just going over old court cases and the history of the court. I don't need a class to teach me that, I could look it up on my own."

"So, is that what the reading for today is about?"

"I guess." Grantaire shrugged. "I haven't really looked at it yet."

"What chapter do we have to read anyway?" Enjolras reached behind him, grabbing a pen and paper off of the end table next to him. Grantaire fell silent, trying to decide what to tell him. Finally, he looked at Enjolras, who was looking at him with a rather annoyed look.

"Chapters eight to eleven." He said finally.


	16. Chapter 16

**Note: Ugh! I'm never fully satisfied with my chapter!**

* * *

"You sure you're good to take him?" Combeferre asked his mother in a hushed tone. He and his parents were eating breakfast before he had to go to class and before they had to take Enjolras to the hospital. They had asked him the night before if he would mind if they went with him. Enjolras agreed, looking surprisingly comfortable with the idea.

"Yes, honey, I'm sure." Claire gave him a smile, "I was a nurse at one time, you know?"

"Yeah…" Combeferre sighed, "But he gets pretty sick. I just don't want it to upset you."

"I'm sure your mother can manage." Arthur said, barely glancing up from his paper.

"We will be fine." Claire gave him a smile, "Just go to class and don't think about any of this. He's in great hands."

"I better go make sure he's up." Combeferre responded getting up, "He needs to have something in his stomach."

Combeferre ran up the stairs and knocked on Enjolras's closed door before opening it. Enjolras was fully dressed, lying stretched out on his bed.

"Hey." Combeferre said, scooting next to his friend on the bed, "You ready for today?"

"Oh, yeah." Enjolras said sarcastically, "I can't wait." He looked over and Combeferre, and gave him a small smile to show he was kidding.

"So, my parents will take you to your chemo appointment, and bring you back here. Courfeyrac mentioned he'd drop by later if that's fine with you. Then I'll be back after class."

"Sure." Enjolras shrugged. Truthfully he didn't care who showed up, as long as he could get through today without throwing up.

"You know my mom's going to spoil you rotten." Courfeyrac teased, "She'll take one look at you all pale and sickly and want to cook you everything we have in the kitchen."

"That's my plan." Enjolras said, sitting up.

"Are you going to go eat something before you're appointment?" Combeferre said, trying not to push.

"Yeah." Enjolras got up, adjusting his hat. "I'll grab a piece of toast or something."

"And eggs?" Combeferre asked, "You know protein is good for you before you get chemo."

"I know." Enjolras sighed, turning away from Combeferre, trying to hide the annoyance he knew he was expressing.

"Well," Combeferre pushed himself off the bed, "I have to get to class. I'll see you in a bit." Combeferre had made it almost all the way out the door before he stopped and yelled, "And make sure you eat!"

* * *

"I'm so sorry, sweetie." Claire couldn't help her voice from wavering as Enjolras was violently ill for what seemed like the tenth time since they'd gotten home from the hospital. She glanced up at Arthur who was frowning in the doorway of the bathroom.

"Is it always this bad?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah." Enjolras answered, breathing hard. He rolled over on the floor, looking exhausted. "I can't sit up. I'm too dizzy." He curled up into a tight ball, shutting his eyes.

"Let's at least get you somewhere comfortable." Arthur said. He helped Enjolras up, and then together he and Claire half carried him into his bedroom.

"Thanks." Enjolras mumbled, rolling over onto his side.

"I'll stay with him." Claire said to Arthur.

"Okay." Arthur gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. Claire reached up and held his hand briefly before sliding into bed. She began to rub his back in small circular motions; something she'd learned long ago gave Enjolras great comfort. Claire listened as his breathing rate began to slow and after a few minutes Enjolras fell asleep.

Even before Enjolras came to live with them, Claire had always felt a certain maternal bond towards him. She remembered when the boys were around five. They'd been jumping on the bed in her and Arthur's room. Enjolras had tumbled off the bed, hitting his head off of the nightstand. Claire, who had heard the thump, went racing into the bedroom, to find Enjolras lying on the floor, crying. Combeferre and Courfeyrac were next to him, each telling him he'd be okay. Claire got in between them, scooped up Enjolras and took him downstairs. She rocked him on the couch, holding ice up to the nasty bump that was forming. Enjolras clung to her and slowly his tears subsided. For the rest of the day, Enjolras hung by her side. He'd go and play for a while, then come back and climb on Claire's lap.

There connection went further than Enjolras had known at that point. She'd actually grown up with Enjolras's mother, Ariane. She'd never been particularly fond of the woman-Ariane spent far too much time focusing on materialism and appearances for her taste. She hated to admit it now, but when Claire found out Enjolras was Ariane's son her heart sank a little. She and Arthur had agreed when Combeferre was born, that they wanted their child to be raised comfortably but with a focus on others needs in life. She was quite worried Ariane's influence would find its way into their home-after all the boy was beautiful; a spitting image of his mother-but the more she got to know Enjolras the more her fears subsided. Enjolras was a kind, generous child. He had more of a taste for trouble than she cared for, but she could see by their interaction, he was a good friend to her son. In fact, the more time spent around Enjolras, the more she realized he was going to be a friend to Combeferre for life.

Claire sensed however, behind the heart-melting smile and beautiful blue eyes, there held a world of secrets. She noticed as the boys grew Enjolras became increasingly skittish. He seemed to always be looking over his shoulder and jumped if someone raised their voice. She wasn't sure why, but she had suspicions that Enjolras's home life wasn't a happy one, and this was confirmed during a dinner with his parents.

One night close to Christmas, when the boys were around ten, she and Arthur threw a dinner party for the Lillminettes and Combeferre's mother, Verna. They'd set the boys up upstairs with their own dinner so the adults could enjoy some conversation. It wasn't long into the meal when the parents began discussing their children and what they envisioned for their futures. And it wasn't long into that discussion Phillipe Lillminette began openly bashing his son.

_"__I just thank God he's good looking." Phillipe had said, "Because Lord knows he hasn't the brains or the brawn to be successful without that face."_

_"__It's funny you say that Phillipe." Arthur replied, glancing at Claire, raising an eyebrow, "Because I quite enjoy the conversations that I have with your son. I find him highly intelligent and an interesting conversationalist."_

_"__Not to mention," Claire added, "He's a kind gentle-hearted boy."_

_"__Kindness and gentle-heartedness are weaknesses." Phillip said boldly, "I've been trying to stamp them out of the boy since I caught him feeding a stray cat when he was seven. This world does not praise a tender heart. He needs to toughen up."_

_"__I'm sorry but I disagree, Phillipe." Verna said cutting in, "I'd rather have my Courfeyrac be a poor man, but good one, as opposed to a successful one without having love in his heart."_

_"__Correct me if I'm wrong, Verna," Phillipe said, "But Your Courfeyrac rarely studies and has one of the highest marks in his class. It would be easy make a comment such as the one you made with a son who could shine in his sleep."_

_"__Well darling," Ariane said touching her husband's arm gently, "Like you said, thank God he's good looking." She smiled at both Claire and Verna, "When he was born, the nurses at the hospital couldn't get enough of him. They all said they've never seen such a beautiful baby."_

_"__He was too small for my tastes." Phillipe said shaking his head at Arthur, "Only five pounds; crushed my hopes of having a star athlete right then and there." _

_"__I was just happy Combeferre was born healthy." Arthur replied. Claire could sense her husband was getting angry._

_Suddenly they heard the crashing of footsteps down the stairs. Within seconds, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Enjolras appeared in the doorway._

_"__Momma," Combeferre said, coming into the dining room, "We finished our dinner."_

_"__Yeah, so can we have cake?" Courfeyrac asked, bouncing over to his mother and hugging her._

_"__I don't see why not." Claire said, getting up to cut three slices of cake, glancing at Enjolras who she couldn't ever remember being so quiet. _

_"__Enjolras, my boy!" Phillipe called out to his son, who had also stayed noticeably glued to the doorway, "Come here." Enjolras bit his lip, then did as he was told._

_"__That's my gorgeous darling." Ariane swooned, pulling Enjolras down to her, kissing his cheek. _

_"__So now that we have all three of you together," Phillipe said, taking a sip of his wine, "I want to see how you've all have grown. Obviously, Courfeyrac's the tallest, but it's always been close between the two of you." He pointed to Combeferre and then to Enjolras, who Claire swore winced slightly._

_"__Here's your cake, boys." She said quickly, placing the plates on the table. She glanced and Arthur, who was glaring at Phillipe. _

_"__Wait a minute, Claire." Phillipe said, holding up his hand, "I want to see who's bigger, here."_

_"__I don't feel that's necessary." Arthur said, standing up._

_"__I do." Phillip said, with a laugh. He turned to his son, "Enjolras." He said, in a sugary sweet voice, "Go stand next to Combeferre." _

_Enjolras glanced at his mother, who quite obviously turned away from him, before walking over and standing next to Combeferre. It was apparent that Combeferre had him beat by at least three inches._

_"__I thought so." Phillipe said, laughing._

_"__I'm sorry." Claire heard Combeferre whisper to Enjolras who just bit his lip._

_"__Well, son." Phillipe said going over and putting his hand on Enjolras's shoulder, "Guess you're the runt of the litter."_

_"__Enough, Phillipe." Arthur said, getting up and putting his hand on Enjolras's other shoulder._

_"__You guys really need to get a sense of humor." Phillipe said with a laugh._

_"__Can we take our cake, Mom?" Combeferre whispered. Claire nodded quickly. The boys grabbed their plates and quickly bolted out of the room, with Combeferre yelling thank you as they clomped up the stairs._

_"__I feel that was a little uncalled for, Phillip." Arthur said, sitting back down._

_"__Uncalled for?" Phillip snorted, sitting down, and putting his arm around Ariane._

_ "__Yes, very much so. And in my home, that type of disrespect is not tolerated."_

_"__Disrespect?" Phillipe asked, standing up back up, "How about the respect-or lack thereof-you have for your guests. Who are you to tell me how to speak to my own son?"_

_"__A father." Arthur jumped up from his seat, slamming down his napkin._

_"__Arthur…" Claire said, reaching out and grabbing her husband's arm, trying to calm him._

_"__We are leaving, Ariane." Phillipe snapped, "Get the boy. I'll be in the car." With that he stormed out of the house. Ariane sat there for a minute before slowly getting up. She returned shortly, with Enjolras in tote, mumbled a quick thank you and the two disappeared out the door._

"Claire?" Arthur whispered from the doorway, "Is he okay?"

"He's sleeping." Claire said, getting up. She went over to Arthur and they embraced.

"Combeferre wasn't exaggerating." Arthur said, as the two headed down the stairs, arm in arm. "Those chemo treatments do make him really ill."

"We just have to tell ourselves that that means the chemo is working."

"Can't they do anything else?" Arthur took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily.

"Chemo really is the best course of action this early in." Claire replied.

"Does it have to make him so sick?" Arthur frowned, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs.

"Well, there are pills he can take to make the nausea subside a little. Combeferre told me that he does take them, and it has helped, but he still gets pretty sick."

"You just have to wonder when the kids going to catch a break." Arthur shook his head. "Hasn't he already been through enough?"

"I know." Claire reached her hand out to hold her husbands. "I know…."


	17. Chapter 17

**Jiriki: I wish you had an account so I can reply to your reviews. Thank you for your kind words!**

* * *

A few days after Enjolras's chemo treatment, Arthur and Claire were packing up to go home. Unfortunately Arthur's leave from the office was over and Claire had made a promise to be a midwife to a woman whose baby was due any day.

"We will keep in touch, this time?" Arthur asked, hugging Combeferre.

"Yes." Combeferre replied hugging him back.

"And you," Claire said, embracing Enjolras, "Do you promise you're going to be honest with us?"

"I promise." Enjolras hugged her back and then they switched.

"You take care of each other." Claire said, kissing and hugging Combeferre.

"And you listen to Combeferre." Arthur hugged Enjolras tight, "And take it easy."

"Did I miss them?" Courfeyrac voice called from the doorway. He ran up the stairs so fast he tripped and went flying, landing on the floor in front of everyone.

"Courfeyrac," Arthur said with a laugh, helping him up, "Nice of you to drop in."

"I was so nervous I was going to miss you guys." Courfeyrac said, trying to catch his breath.

"Well, you got here just in time." Claire said with a warm smile, hugging Courfeyrac. "You behave yourself now." Combeferre had to turn away to keep from laughing at the size difference between them. Courfeyrac towered over his mother, who was tall herself.

"Come, on dear." Arthur said, gently taking Claire's arm, "We better get a move on if we want to get home before nightfall." Arthur gave Enjolras a quick pat on the back and began to head down the stairs with Combeferre close behind him.

"Talk to you soon, honey." Claire grabbed Enjolras hand and squeezed it before she began down the stairs herself. She must have been about halfway down when she suddenly ran back up and hugged Enjolras again, rocking him in her arms.

"You get yourself well, you hear me." She said in his ear, "If you need me for anything, you call me."

"I will." Enjolras allowed her to rock him for a bit longer then she let go of him, and disappeared down the stairs.

"Sometimes I think she likes you better than Combeferre." Courfeyrac teased, following Enjolras over to the couch. Enjolras didn't say anything and just leaned back against the couch, blinking hard. Courfeyrac knew his friend well enough to know he was doing his best not to cry.

"I hate saying goodbye." Combeferre said reappearing at the top of the stairs. "Aren't most kids happy to get rid of their parents?"

"Yeah," Courfeyrac shrugged, "But Arthur and Claire are pretty neat to be around. Most parents aren't like that. With the exception of my mother of course…I'm pretty sure she could out party me any day of the week."

"This is true." Combeferre smiled and plopped down on the couch in between Enjolras and Combeferre.

"You gotta give the woman credit." Courfeyrac smiled, "She did teach me everything I know in regards to being an excellent party goer."

"I'm sure she is really proud when you're unable to walk home in a straight-line." Combeferre teased.

"Hey, my mother always taught me what matters is that I find my way home." Courfeyrac said with a grin.

"You okay?" Combeferre nudged Enjolras who was oddly quiet. Enjolras rarely missed an opportunity to throwing a brotherly jab in Courfeyrac's direction about his partying antics.

"Yeah." Enjolras nodded.

"You sure?" Without hesitation Combeferre put his hand to Enjolras's forehead, trying to see if he had a fever.

"I'm fine." Enjolras lightly pushed Combeferre's hand away, "I just wish they could have stayed longer."

"I think they did too." Combeferre responded, patting Enjolras's knee, "They'll be back before you know it. If I know my Mom it will be sooner rather than later."

"We can always go visit them once you're well." Courfeyrac shrugged, "I mean I want to go see my Mom anyway. I'm sure Arthur and Claire would be more than happy to have the two of you back home."

"Maybe…" Enjolras shrugged.

"You wouldn't have to even see your dad." Courfeyrac continued, "I mean if the man came near you I'd beat his ass. I'm pretty sure I could at least. He's probably a shriveled up old man by now."

The thought of his father being a shriveled up old man caused Enjolras to smile, despite the sadness he was feeling. He couldn't picture his father being anything but the tall man with broad shoulders, huge hands, and thick black curly hair.

"Ah!" Courfeyrac suddenly sprang off the couch, "I win. I got him to smile Combeferre."

"I didn't know it was a contest." Combeferre said, rolling his eye and shaking his head at Enjolras.

"How could it not be?" Courfeyrac danced around the room, jumping and leaping until both Enjolras and Combeferre were laughing. Then he dramatically threw himself on the couch (being careful of course to put most of his weight on Combeferre). "God, Enjolras," Courfeyrac said, pretending to breath heavily, "You are hard work these days, let me tell you."

"Your check is in the mail." Enjolras smirked. Together he and Combeferre shoved Courfeyrac off of the couch and onto the floor.

"You better include medical compensation." Courfeyrac said, sitting up and grinning, "Because I'm pretty sure I got a concussion off of your boney knee."

"No such coverage exists." Enjolras said with a grin.

"Besides," Combeferre added, "You caused the harm on your own by throwing yourself against us."

"A minor detail." Courfeyrac replied before plopping himself back on both of them again.


	18. Chapter 18

Enjolras was having one of his rare good days so with Courfeyrac (who Enjolras no doubt recruited) by his side he asked Combeferre to take him to the Café to meet up with their friends. Combeferre was opposed to the idea at first-he tried to convince them both it was awfully cold and snowy out-but after some minor pouting from Enjolras and puppy-dog eyes from Courfeyrac, he caved. After all, Enjolras rarely left the house these days, besides going to and from the hospital, so Combeferre felt he had to embrace his burst of energy (for however long it lasted).

They had just gotten their coffees, and were settling at their usual table, joining their friends, when the smile Enjolras had been wearing suddenly slid off his face. Combeferre frowned, turning to see what cause the change in Enjolras's demeanor. There, in front of them stood Denis, Enjolras's younger cousin by three years on his father's side.

"Hello, Enj." Denis said in a sickening sweet voice causing every other head at the table to turn.

"You got to be kidding me." Courfeyrac muttered. Enjolras and Denis have never gotten along. When they were children, Denis was always getting Enjolras into trouble with his father. In fact, Denis had made quite a habit of ratting Enjolras out on anything and everything and sometimes even made up things. Which caused Courfeyrac to make a quite a habit of beating Denis up on numerous occasions.

"Well, you're looking lovely." Denis stated to Enjolras. "What the heck did you do to yourself?"

"I figured I'd try out a new look." Enjolras said tartly, his eyes an ice blue.

"Forgive me." Denis said theatrically, "I'm just not use to not having to gaze at your beauty." He laughed. "So, how does it feel to look like the rest of us?"

"What are you doing here?" Enjolras snapped, ignoring the last statement, not even trying to hide his distain.

"Just visiting the school." Denis shrugged, "There is a chance I might end up here next year."

"If you do, remind us to give you a welcome party." Courfeyrac said, cutting into their conversation, his sarcasm unmistakable.

"That would be so kind of you!" Denis exclaimed, his tone matching Courfeyrac's.

"Why would you want to come here?" Combeferre interrupted, kicking Courfeyrac under the table with a clear message of "control yourself". "There are plenty of schools closer to home or farther for that matter."

"It came recommended to me by my uncle." Denis said, winking at Enjolras. "Your father's doing well, by the way. He sends his love." Denis grinned as Enjolras shifted uneasily in his seat.

"_Father?_" Grantaire couldn't help inquiring, glancing at Enjolras who had turned about three shades paler than he already was.

"Why don't you just get out of here?" Courfeyrac snapped, standing up, "No one wants you here." Denis looked like he was about to protest, but after getting a good look at Courfeyrac's size (and perhaps having a few flashbacks of childhood) backed down.

"Well, it's always a pleasure, boys." Denis saluted, and ducked out of the café.

"Who in the world was that?" Marius asked.

"My cousin." Enjolras responded, his voice ice-cold.

"Your jerk of a cousin." Courfeyrac corrected, sitting back down, "I can't believe he'd actually show his face around here."

"Maybe he really was just checking out the school." Combeferre reasoned to which he got a look of "don't be a fool" from Courfeyrac. There was no doubt in Courfeyrac's mind that Denis had been sent to assess how sick Enjolras really was.

"I thought you said you didn't have a father." Grantaire asked. Everyone at the table, minus Combeferre and Courfeyrac, turned their heads for a second time, this time looking at Enjolras.

"Leave it be, Grantaire." Courfeyrac said sharply.

"No." Grantaire stood up, folding his arms, "He's always telling us to stand up for what we believe in and to be honest about who we are but it's quite clear our token pretty boy isn't being honest himself."

"Shut up Grantaire." Courfeyrac said, his voice bordering on explosive.

"I can't deal with this." Enjolras choked out suddenly. He pushed himself up out of his seat, the best he could, and shoved his way out the door, nearly tripping over Jehan as he did so. Combeferre jumped up and ran after him.

"Talk about sensitive..." Grantaire nervously glanced at Courfeyrac, taking a swig of whatever alcohol was in his cup.

"Sensitive?" Courfeyrac grabbed the cup from Grantaire and flung it against the wall, which caused it to shatter into a thousand pieces and Cosette to gasp, "His father _beat him_ you bastard." He then got up, not wanting to see the shock on everyone's faces, and bolted after his friends.


	19. Chapter 19

Combeferre sighed, thinking about how the events had unfolded last night. After they'd gotten home from the café, Courfeyrac made the deadly mistake of telling Enjolras he had told Grantaire the truth about his father. Enjolras had exploded, cursing Courfeyrac for giving away that information and Courfeyrac had in turn told Enjolras he needed to stop hiding from his past and start dealing with it. This of course didn't sit well with Enjolras and a huge fight ignited between them, leaving Combeferre to try to mediate. Courfeyrac ended up throwing his arms up in frustration and storming out of the house. Enjolras had fumed the rest of the night, yelling his annoyances from his bedroom. As a result, Combeferre had gone to bed with a massive headache and worry in his heart.

Needless to say, Combeferre was looking forwards to the stillness that was suddenly around him. Enjolras was still up in his room (he had come down for some water, gave Combeferre a minor wave, before hobbling back up the stairs) and Courfeyrac hadn't attempted to come by yet. Combeferre had just made himself lunch and sat down to read a book he'd recently borrowed from the library when he heard a knock on the door. Sighing he got up, shocked to open the door and find Grantaire behind it.

"I don't think it's wise you're here right now." Combeferre sighed.

"I need to talk to Enjolras." Grantaire eyes were red. Combeferre couldn't tell if he was hung over or if he'd been crying. "Please, Combeferre…." Grantaire's eyes were pleading. Combeferre knew Grantaire wasn't one to beg, so he stepped aside, motioning for him to come into the house.

"So, is it true? What Courfeyrac said about Enj's father?" Grantaire asked his voice low.

"Yeah," Combeferre sighed, knowing his peaceful morning was ruined, "It's true.

"I never would have a pushed if I would have known." Grantaire said, following Combeferre up the stairs, "I honestly thought it was something like his dad didn't buy him the car he wanted or something."

"Well, it's not." Combeferre tried to shake off his annoyance.

"I realize that now…" Grantaire looked down at his shoes. Grantaire looked genuinely concerned and apologetic. He also knew that even though Grantaire and Enjolras had a contemptuous relationship neither one of them would do something on purpose to cause the other harm.

"I'm sorry if I snapped. Combeferre said, "It was just a really long night When Courfeyrac told Enjolras that he told you guys about his father, they got into a major fight. I am going upstairs to tell him that you're here. It's up to him if he wants to talk to you or not. I'll be right back."

Grantaire sat down on the couch, trying to shake off the feeling of uneasiness. He grabbed a newspaper that no doubt Combeferre had been reading and tried to focus on some of the articles. He found himself reading the same few sentences over and over again, his brain barely recognizing the words. Sighing, he tossed the paper aside, recognizing that it was a pointless cause. He tried to reason with himself that even if Enjolras didn't want to talk to him his life wouldn't drastically change. He understood that he and Enjolras weren't close, so it's not like he'd be losing some great confidant. Plus, he rarely saw him these days as it was, unless of course he was dropping off a reading assignment. Finally he heard Combeferre coming down the stairs, and he had to admit he was beyond relieved he was told Enjolras had agreed to talk to him.

"One thing though", Combeferre said, catching Grantaire by the arm, before he started up the stairs, "If he asks you to leave, you need to do so."

"Hey." Grantaire said softly, knocking on Enjolras's door. He felt his nervousness grow tremendously as he walked into the room.

"Why are you here?" Enjolras muttered. He was turned away from Grantaire, under the covers. Grantaire swallowed, trying to notice how small Enjolras looked.

"I came to tell you I'm sorry about last night." Grantaire said finally. "For questioning you about your father…" Grantaire swallowed hard, "I swear I never would have pushed you so hard if I had any idea about the truth."

"You never should have pushed in the first place." Enjolras replied rather bitterly. "I'm so pissed off at Courfeyrac. He never should have said anything. It wasn't his place to tell you."

"No, you're right...he should have. But you should have."

"No, I shouldn't have. I owe you all nothing." Enjolras snapped, his blue eyes flashing with anger, "Especially you. We are barely even friends, Grantaire." Enjolras's last words cut through Grantaire like ice.

"Well," He said, trying to not show how shaken up he felt, "I can see this isn't going to go well. I guess I better go. Just know I'm sorry that I pushed you on your father. I'm also sorry for what happened to you."

"I'm ashamed." Enjolras said so softly Grantaire barely heard him.

"Ashamed?" Grantaire asked stopping in his step, turning to face him, "Why?"

"I'm supposed to be this strong leader." Enjolras finally turned toward him, "How could you guys see me as after what my father did to me?" Enjolras was quiet before he added, "How could you see me like that after this cancer? I'm weak. I got beat up by my father until I was sixteen, and my body is now getting beat up by cancer."

"Enjolras…." Grantaire went over at sat on the bed, "No one feels that way. No one is going to think you're weak."

"You don't know that." Enjolras retorted.

"Hey…" Grantaire decided to take a different approach, "Didn't you once say, 'everyone has struggles and our struggles are what give us strength'? If anything we see you as stronger. I know I do."

Enjolras shrugged, studying his finger nail as though it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Truthfully he was a little flattered Grantaire remembered his speech on drug addicts and rehabilitation as opposed to jail. Especially because at the time, Grantaire had argued the only place for them was jail.

"So, was it bad?" Grantaire asked, deciding to brave the question, "Between you and your dad?"

Enjolras met his eyes for a minute, before looking at the ceiling and nodding,

"Yeah," He replied, "It was bad. I don't really remember a time I wasn't afraid of him."

"So he hurt you then?"

"Yeah, he hurt me. Way more times than I can count." Enjolras could feel his cheeks getting red.

"Where was your mother?"

"She was doing her own thing." Enjolras bit his lip, "She left when I was thirteen."

"Your mother left you with your father knowing how he treated you?" Grantaire frowned. He didn't have the best relationship with his parents-they saw the world very differently-but it nowhere compared to what Enjolras had dealt with.

"Yeah," Enjolras sat up, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Have you seen her since?" Grantaire asked, but he already felt he knew the answer.

"No."

"That must be hard." In some aspect, although minor as it was, Grantaire could relate. Growing up, his parents never really paid him much attention. They both worked fulltime during and their nights and weekends consisted of parties so a lot of his childhood was spent with a nanny. However, Grantaire always had the comfort of knowing even if they stayed out all night, they would always come back.

Enjolras started to shrug, but then he looked at Grantaire self-consciously, "Yeah, it's hard."

"Is that why you spent so much time at Combeferre's?" Grantaire asked.

"It started out that way." Enjolras fumbled with his covers nervously, "I actually ended up living with them. He um…my dad…he beat me up pretty bad…Combeferre and Courfeyrac found me passed out on the kitchen floor. Combeferre ran to get Arthur who brought me back to their house. I never lived with my father again."

"Oh…I didn't realize…" Grantaire stumbled over his words. He suddenly realized how dangerous Enjolras situation must have been, and how minor the problems with his parents were. Even though they didn't see eye to eye, and they didn't give him the attention he probably deserved as a child, he knew they still loved him. And besides, they never beat him or anything like that. "I didn't realize you lived with them." Grantaire finished finally.

"Yeah." Enjolras shrugged, "It was the best thing that ever could have happened to me. My life changed forever after that. Arthur and Claire treated me like I was their son. I had known them all my life and Combeferre was already like a brother to me so it was surprisingly an easy fit."

"Do you ever talk to your father?"

"No." Enjolras shook his head.

"Not even since you got sick?" Grantaire could feel his mouth drop open.

"No." Enjolras could feel his throat start to tighten.

"Does he know you're even ill?"

"Yeah," Enjolras bit his lip, "I guess Arthur told him. He didn't seem to care too much."

Grantaire was amazed. He couldn't imagine a parent not running to their sick child's (and in Enjolras's case, a very sick child's) side.

"It sounds like you're better off without him caring." Grantaire said, saying the first comforting thing that came to mind. He didn't realize how stupid it sounded until he actually heard the words out loud.

"I didn't mean that like it sounded." Grantaire said quickly.

"I know what you mean." Enjolras sighed, rubbing his arm, "Courfeyrac's always telling me not to let myself care. I know he's got a point. But it's easier said than done."

"So are you and Courf going to be okay?" Grantaire asked.

"Courf and I will always be fine in the end." Enjolras smiled slightly, making Grantaire's heart skip a beat, "Yeah, we'll fight and give each other a hard time, but he's my brother. He always will be."

"Good." Grantaire nodded, pushing away the fluttering in his heart, "I would hate to be the cause of a classic friendship coming to an end."

"Yeah, you can't take that worry off of your shoulders." Enjolras grinned, "So what about your family? What are your parents like?"

"I truthfully don't know my parents." Grantaire told Enjolras how he was raised basically by his nanny and his parents spent most of their time at work or parties.

"So we both had kind of messed up childhoods." Enjolras concluded.

"I wouldn't compare mine to yours." Grantaire said, bending down, pretending to tie his shoe. He could feel himself blushing at the mere thought of Enjolras placing a link between them.

"Well, let's just say we both had it rough." Enjolras replied.

Grantaire shrugged before nodding.

"So," He said, taking a deep breath, "Things are fine between us?"

"Yeah," Enjolras gave him a grin, "Things are fine."


	20. Chapter 20

**Note: the irony of this chapter is that I woke up this morning myself with a sore throat, headache and fever.**

* * *

The next day after his conversation with Grantaire Enjolras woke up with a nasty cold. Besides the protests and whining, Combeferre immediately took Enjolras into see Dr. Jernett. Because of his cold, Enjolras's next chemo appointment, which was scheduled for tomorrow, was delayed until further notice. He had strict orders from Dr. Jernett to stay in bed, drink plenty of fluids, and consume as much iron as he could. It was honestly the first time Combeferre could remember seeing Dr. Jernett the least bit concerned since they met him. He cautioned them that if Enjolras started to feel any worse, or any new symptoms arose, he was to go to the hospital immediately. Needless to say, this warning launched Combeferre into micromanaging Enjolras's every move.

"How you feeling?" Combeferre asked, for probably the third time that morning.

"The same." Enjolras sniffled from the bed, "Don't you have class to go to or something?"

"It's not important." Combeferre shrugged, "I can make up the work."

"Ferre…" Enjolras began to protest but then started coughing.

"Drink some water." Combeferre said, practically shoving the glass at Enjolras. "Do you think your cough is worse?" He asked after Enjolras had a sip or two.

"No worse than it was ten minutes ago." Enjolras replied. Combeferre sighed, he knew that he was being over protective, but he just couldn't help himself. He didn't want to miss the slightest change in Enjolras's cold getting any worse.

"I'm smothering you again, aren't I?" Combeferre said thinking out loud, laying down next to Enjolras on the bed.

"Well, maybe a bit..." Enjolras gave Combeferre a small smile. "But it's okay. I actually don't mind having this cold. It's better than being dizzy and throwing up all day."

"I suppose that's true." Combeferre replied, "I guess if I had to pick one, it would be the cold."

Enjolras response was a sneeze.

"So, I didn't get to really ask you…" Combeferre said, clearing his throat, "How'd it go between you and Grantaire? I came up after a little after he left to ask you about it and you were sound asleep."

"It actually went pretty well." Enjolras replied.

"Well, that's good." Combeferre said, "What did you guys talk about?"

"Oh, this and that." Enjolras shrugged.

"Did he apologize to you?" Combeferre pressed.

"Yeah…" Enjolras absentmindedly touched his knitted skull cap Cosette had recently given him.

"Maybe you guys will finally settle your differences."

Enjolras shrugged. "He's not as bad as I thought I guess."

Combeferre hid a smile. He always suspected the two would be able to get along if they just let themselves. In fact, he suspected Grantaire wanted more than to just get along with Enjolras. Although he never brought it up to either of them, he's caught Grantaire on numerous occasions gazing at Enjolras with a look of wonderment in his eyes. Sometimes Combeferre wondered if that's why Grantaire argued with Enjolras on even trivial things; to try to hide his admiration.

Enjolras's arguing with Grantaire on the other hand was another story. Combeferre knew that Enjolras was oblivious to Grantaire's infatuation, if there was one, with him. But where Grantaire argued to hide his awe, Enjolras argued to try to prove himself as credible. As much as he loved him, Combeferre had to admit that Enjolras took most criticism as a challenge, even if it wasn't intended that way, and sometimes became irrationally self-justifying. Combeferre attributed it to growing up with a father who always shut you down and tore you apart. He figured it was just a defense mechanism that developed over the years as a coping skill.

"Are you going to talk to Courfeyrac?" Combeferre asked, changing the subject. "You know he'll probably stop by to talk to you today, right?"

"Yeah." Enjolras shrugged, "I'm still a little ticked off he told, but I understand why he did."

"Courf would never do anything to hurt you." Combeferre replied glad Enjolras had calmed down from his rant a few nights before.

Enjolras nodded before sneezing again. He slid under the covers, wrapping them around his thin body.

"Can I at least get you some lunch?" Combeferre asked.

"I think I'm going to sleep for a while." Enjolras said, closing his eyes, "My head hurts a bit."

"Okay." Combeferre slid off the bed, refraining from asking if his headache was worse, "I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

* * *

Courfeyrac ended up showing up about an hour later. "Is Enj around?" He asked, hopping back and forth?" A sure sign that he was feeling anxious, "I really need to talk to him."

"He's sleeping." Combeferre said, "You hungry? I made enough soup here to last a week."

"Sure," Courfeyrac shrugged. "So….how is Enjolras?"

"He's got a nasty cold." Combeferre shrugged, "I had to drag him to the doctors this morning. He's ordered to be on bed rest. His chemo is delayed until he's better. Which, I think he is very pleased with."

"I don't blame him." Courfeyrac rubbed the back of his neck, "So umm…do you think he's still pissed at me?"

"I think he's definitely calmed down. I think you guys are going to be fine. Grantaire stopped by to apologize too actually."

"Wait, what!?" Courfeyrac practically choked on the water Combeferre had given him, "Grantaire came by to apologize? You're kidding me?"

Combeferre nodded, "From what I could see, he was legitimately sorry for pushing the envelope on this one. They actually talked for a while."

"Wow, and they didn't fight?"

"Nope." Combeferre shrugged, "I mean, I was prepared to break up a fight but none occurred."

"That's amazing." Courfeyrac shook his head, "I never thought I'd see the day where the two actually sat down and talked."

"I guess miracles do happen." Combeferre shrugged and grinned, "So I'm pretty sure you're going to be back in Enjolras good graces with ease."

"I hope so. I mean, I just lost it. Do you think Denis would really end up going to school here?"

"I don't know." Combeferre shrugged, "I would hope not, but we can't really stop him if he does."

"Yes we can." Courfeyrac cleared his throat, "If he does end up coming here I plan on making his life miserable."

"I wouldn't object to that." Enjolras said, suddenly appearing next to them. "Hey Courf…" He said sheepishly.

"Enj…" Courfeyrac began, but then he grinned and patted Enjolras on the back. It was easy to see all was forgiven.


	21. Chapter 21

**Note: Jirki, thank you for your well wishes, I am feeling better :) I wish you would sign up so we can message one another!**

* * *

Combeferre, smiled, glad that Enjolras and Courfeyrac had made amends. After all, they've all been through too much to let a small fight really affect their friendship. Combeferre always found the dynamic between himself and his two best friends very interesting. In all honesty, the three of them couldn't be more different.

Courfeyrac had grown up with only his mother. His father left when he was around two, but according to Courfeyrac the guy was a deadbeat anyway. Apparently he was a drunk who just lazed around the house, forcing his wife, to pull three jobs (even when she was pregnant). Courfeyrac often said the best thing that could have happened to his family was his father leaving. As a result of it only being the two of them, Courfeyrac was close to his mother. In fact, Combeferre felt they were more like best friends than mother and son. Combeferre always thought that their relationship was odd, but he also knew for them it worked. Verna shared Courfeyrac's fun loving personality. They celebrated together, drank together, even got into trouble together. Verna was a huge partier. Because of this Courfeyrac probably was allotted more freedom than he deserved, introduced to mature things he might not have been quite ready for. There were times during their childhood where Combeferre had a lot of concerns for Courfeyrac's wellbeing, whether it was worrying he'd drink too much in a night or land himself in hot water he couldn't charm his way out of. Somehow though, Courfeyrac always managed to make it through another day, willing and ready for whatever fun might come his way.

Combeferre of course had grown up with both Claire and Arthur. His childhood was full of love, compassion and understanding. Claire and Arthur were strong believers in nurturing the heart first, and it was evident from his upbringing. He could never recall his parents fighting, at least not in front of him. Combeferre had also grown up a strong influence on culture and the arts. His parents constantly took him to plays, art galleries, and music constantly streamed through his house. Whenever Combeferre made mistakes they were dealt with by discussion and forgiveness. This didn't mean he wasn't held responsible for his actions, but it was done in a way where Combeferre came out of the conversations with higher expectations of himself. Combeferre knew that his calm disposition was much attributed to the way he was raised. He felt it enabled him to somewhat add a sense of calm to Courfeyrac's wild partying ways.

Then of course there was Enjolras…

Until he found out about the abuse Enjolras was suffering at the hands of his father, Combeferre never fully understood the idea of empathy. He thought he did, as his parents raised him to understand the feelings and needs of others. It wasn't until that day in the woods, when Phillip's abuse towards his son was discovered and Combeferre felt his heart completely break, did he realize he hadn't had a clue. From that point on, Combeferre could honestly say his heart hurt anytime he saw Enjolras with even the slightest bruise, and grimace with him if he winced if he was accidently bumped where a bruise might be. He panicked whenever Enjolras didn't show up at school on time, and worried whenever he received a bad score on a test.

There was a point in their childhood where it became very obvious to Combeferre that Enjolras's father suspected he and Courfeyrac knew about the abuse. Phillip started doing small things at first, as if he were testing them. Or in Courfeyrac's case baiting him. Phillip began openly insulting Enjolras. He'd make fun of his size, his health (when they were younger every winter Enjolras had horrible respiratory problems), his lack of success in athletics, and his poor achievement in what Phillip deemed, "boy subjects". In Phillips twisted perception, the fact that Enjolras excelled in social sciences, English, and history paled in comparison to his struggles in math and the sciences. He'd tell Enjolras constantly he had a "woman's mind", "a weak mind", "an emotional mind". He'd tape up Enjolras's failed math scores on the refrigerator and toss out his A+ essays. Sometimes Combeferre was convinced that Phillip's emotional torment was worse than the physical abuse. Combeferre didn't ever think he would forget the look of complete defeat in Enjolras's eyes after his father finished berating him.

Although Phillip never outright beat Enjolras in front of Combeferre and Courfeyrac, he did exhibit some signs of the physical abuse he dished out. He would do things like trip Enjolras when he was walking past him, or pull his chair out from underneath him when he went to sit down. One time in particular stuck out in Combeferre's memory. Enjolras had been grounded (for something or another) and wasn't allowed to leave home. Combeferre and Courfeyrac had been given permission to come over by using the cover of studying for the math test that was the following day. Phillip, who conveniently was getting a drink in the kitchen, had kicked Enjolras's chair out from under him as he passed by. Enjolras had crashed to the floor, hitting his chin off of the table. Immediately Enjolras's lip started to bleed. Courfeyrac took one look at the blood and completely lost it.

_"__What the hell is your problem, man?" Courfeyrac had snapped, jumping up from the table, slamming_

_"__I don't know what you're talking about." Phillip said with a grin._

_"__You just knocked him on the ground." Courfeyrac said. Even at the age of fifteen, Courfeyrac was almost the same height as Phillip._

_"__He fell." Phillip said coolly._

_"__You're full of shit." Courfeyrac spat. _

_"__Courf." Enjolras said, from the floor, "Don't. Let it go."_

_"__Yeah, 'Courf,'" Phillip mimicked, "Let it go." He laughed before grabbing his coat and exiting out the kitchen door._

_"__You okay?" Courfeyrac asked, pulling Enjolras up into a standing position. Combeferre already had ice out from the fridge. He handed it to Enjolras who tentatively put it to his chin._

_"__Thanks." He mumbled, looking away from the both of them._

_"__Enj, are you okay?" Courfeyrac asked again._

_Enjolras shrugged, "You shouldn't have said that to him, Courf. It's just going to piss him off more."_

_Courfeyrac started to say something, but then changed his mind, "I need to go for a walk." He said, and then he looked pointedly at Combeferre "You try talking to him."_

_Enjolras sank into the chair nearest him, "Go ahead, Combeferre…" He sighed, "Let me have it."_

_"__I just want to know first and foremost if you're okay." Combeferre said calmly, sitting down too._

_"__I mean, my chin hurts." Enjolras shrugged, "But, I'm fine."_

_"__I don't know, Enj…" Combeferre sighed, "Doesn't it scare you a bit your dad is getting more and more open about how he...how he treats you?"_

_Enjolras looked away before shrugging, "I guess."_

_"__How do you do this?" Combeferre asked, honestly curious, "I couldn't imagine living a life like the one you do."_

_"__I just keep telling myself it won't last forever." Enjolras replied, "Sure I get really down about it, but once I'm eighteen, I'm out of here."_

_"__That's still four years away." Combeferre pointed out._

_"__Yeah, I know." Enjolras shrugged, "But that thought is what gets me through. There is better than this out there. Besides, think about all those stories we read about in school…the main character always goes through something awful before they do something great. I think after I get out of here, I really want to focus on helping other people."_

It was the first time Combeferre ever remembered them talking about their future. Until then, they'd been so consumed with the here and now. Enjolras sharing his plans for his future was important, making Combeferre respect him more than he already did. He'd made a choice at fifteen to use his sorrows for someone else's triumphs.

Enjolras's drive and passion grew from that day. He began to openly defend those at school who were picked on because they were different from everyone else-like the boy who stuttered during a presentation, or the girl who lived in a shelter because her father had lost his job. This landed him many times in hot water with the schools well known bullies, but even when he was face to face with them, Enjolras never backed down. Of course he did have Courfeyrac to back him, but Combeferre felt that Enjolras would have stood just fine on his own.

Combeferre remembered thinking it somewhat ironic…Enjolras could stand up for the rights of those in turmoil, against three or four kids, all of whom were bigger than he was, without batting an eye. However, Enjolras couldn't defend the one person who truly mattered: Himself.


	22. Chapter 22

**Note: I am not a doctor. I apologize if the medical aspect of this chapter is not 100% accurate. I tried to write it off of the best of my own understanding from doing some research.**

* * *

It took Enjolras a couple days to get over his cold. When he finally did, Dr. Jernett ran him through a battery of test, much to Enjolras's pure annoyance, to make sure he was well enough to withstand the chemo. After reviewing his tests results, Enjolras was given the go ahead from Dr. Jernett to resume his chemo.

Combeferre was planning on going but he had already missed several days of classes and couldn't afford to miss anymore. So, Courfeyrac offered to take him to his appointment thus being stuck with the daunting task of listening to Enjolras unsuccessfully trying to convince Courfeyrac that "chemo wasn't that important".

"I really think we should just go do something else." Enjolras said as he climbed into Courfeyrac's car.

"Think what you want my friend." Courfeyrac replied, "But I already have been given my orders by our dear friend Combeferre to take you straight to the hospital. And, as much as I love you, I fear his anger more because it's the quiet ones you need to worry about."

"He won't have to know." Enjolras mumbled, giving Courfeyrac a look of complete distain.

"I'm pretty sure he'll be able to tell." Courfeyrac said, "Hate to tell you man, but it's pretty obvious when you get your chemo."

"Why do you choose to follow the rules when I really need you not to?" Enjolras sighed, leaning against the window and sighing.

"Because my dear you getting well is way more important than my habitual rule breaking ways." Courfeyrac replied. He reached out and gently shook Enjolras's knee until he finally got him to smile.

"It's on you if I get sick in your car then." Enjolras replied.

* * *

Normally for his chemo appointments Enjolras's only interaction with any medical staff was the nurse who hooked up his port, periodically checked on him, then unhooked his port. Which is why he was surprised to see Dr. Jernett come into the room after a few minutes into his chemo.

"Hey," Dr. Jernett said, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to Enjolras, "I just came to check on you. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good." Enjolras replied, knowing that feeling wouldn't last long.

"Great." Dr. Jernett smiled, "Now this isn't Combeferre." He said gesturing towards Courfeyrac who right before this had been spinning around in a rolling chair.

"This is my friend Courfeyrac. He grew up with me and Combeferre. Courfeyrac, this is Dr. Jernett; My oncologist."

"Well, very nice to meet you Courfeyrac." Dr. Jernett said, as the two of them shook hands.

Enjolras watched as Courfeyrac eyed Dr. Jernett suspiciously, noticeably not saying the same thing back.

"So," Courfeyrac said, rolling his chair back and forth a little, "You're the guy who's making my friend here puke his guts out every couple days."

"Courf—" Enjolras began, feeling his ears turn red.

"No, it's okay Enjolras." Dr. Jernett replied, putting his hand up, "Yes, I supposed I am that guy. However, I am also the guy who has the best statistics of survival with this type of cancer. Trust, me Courfeyrac, you want me on your side. Like I explained to Enjolras from the very beginning, I would never put him through anything I didn't feel was needed."

Courfeyrac looked at Enjolras who shut his eyes; obviously beyond embarrassed he'd said anything in the first place.

"Nevertheless," Dr. Jernett continued, "I can understand where your concerns are. Enjolras is very lucky to have a friend like you, as well as a friend like Combeferre." Courfeyrac didn't say anything in response so Dr. Jernett got up, "Well, Enjolras, I'll see you next week at your appointment. Call me if you need anything."

Enjolras nodded. Once Dr. Jernett left the room, Enjolras turned to face Courfeyrac, "What the hell was that? It's not his fault I react to chemo like I do." Courfeyrac who had already realized his own rudeness, jumped up, hoping to catch Dr. Jernett before he disappeared into the labyrinth of the hospital. Luckily he was standing at a desk nearby, signing off on some forms.

"Dr. Jernett." Courfeyrac called out, running over to him, "Listen, I'm sorry if I bit your head off in there."

"It's okay, Courfeyrac." Dr. Jernett said, turning around to face him, "I know it's hard watching your friend go through something so hard."

"I'm just really protective of him." Courfeyrac sighed, "Trust me I'm not normally like that. Sometimes it comes out wrong."

"I'm the same way over people I care about." Dr. Jernett said, "I personally am just glad to see Enjolras has friends that care about him so much. A good support system is just as important as any medical treatment I can give him." Dr. Jernett smiled then patted Courfeyrac on his back. "Just keep being the support system he needs."

* * *

About three hours later, Courfeyrac had to carry Enjolras into his apartment.

"Courf," Enjolras mumbled, grabbing his stomach as Courfeyrac lowered him to the couch. Courfeyrac immediately handed him a bucket that Combeferre conveniently left out which Enjolras predictably threw up in.

"You okay?" Courfeyrac asked, taking the bucket and putting it on the floor.

"My body hurts so badly." Enjolras gasped, curling up in a small ball on the couch. His shoulders started to shake and Courfeyrac knew he was crying. Without any words being exchanged between them, Courfeyrac leaned over and rubbed Enjolras's back until his sobs died down.

"It's going to be okay, Enj." Courfeyrac said softly.

"I'm sorry." Enjolras whispered, sitting up slightly, wiping the tears out of his eyes. He grabbed the blanket next to him, wrapping his body in it.

"Don't be." Courfeyrac replied, gently squeezing Enjolras's shoulder.

"I told you we should have skipped chemo." Enjolras said with a slight smile, leaning his head back against the couch, closing his eyes.

Courfeyrac laughed, glad Enjolras was at least joking.

"Well, next time perhaps if you offer me the right price and I might consider it." Courfeyrac said.

"Remember when you and I had the chicken pox when we were little?" Enjolras asked, shifting so he was able to lay back down on the couch, "We somehow managed to stay at your house and got to do whatever we wanted because your mom went to work all day. We had the best time not having to go to school. Minus the itching of course. Combeferre was so jealous."

"I remember." Courfeyrac grinned, "The poor chap caught it the next week and had to stay home alone." They both laughed before falling silent.

"My toes are numb." Enjolras said suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Courfeyrac said, in alarm, pulling off the blanket. Enjolras had to be wearing at least three pairs of socks.

"I can't really feel them." Enjolras stretched out his legs, wincing in pain. "Actually my legs feel weird too."

"Has this happened before?" Courfeyrac asked.

"No." Enjolras shook his head.

"Come on. We are going back to the hospital." Courfeyrac said.

"Courf." Enjolras shook his head, "I'm sure it will be fine. It'll pass."

"I don't care." Courfeyrac reached out and practically hoisted Enjolras up onto his back, "We're going."

* * *

"It's called peripheral neuropathy." Dr. Jernett said, frowning down at Enjolras who was laying on the exam table, "It's a reaction from the chemo."

"What exactly is that?" Courfeyrac asked, glancing at Combeferre. Courfeyrac had called him as soon as they got into the car. They had picked him up on the way to the hospital.

"Basically what happens with this is the chemo harms the cells that produce myelin. Myelin is—"

"It covers and protects the nerves." Combeferre interrupted, "Basically it allows quick transmission of information from one nerve cell to another."

"Right..." Dr. Jernett looked at Combeferre with amazement.

"I'm a biology student." Combeferre explained.

"That doesn't sound good if that stuff is harmed." Courfeyrac interrupted, glancing at Enjolras who was biting his lip.

"The chemo is so strong when it spread through the body it can cause damage to the myelin or nerve cells. So that's what's happening here."

"So what do we do?" Courfeyrac asked, beginning to feel his anxiety begin to rise.

"Well, there are a couple of options." Dr. Jernett replied, he glanced at Enjolras whose eyes were closed. "Enjolras are you listening?"

"I'm sorry, but have to throw up." Enjolras said rather sheepishly

"Oh!" Dr. Jernett opened up one of the cabinet doors and handed Enjolras a small pan. Enjolras got sick in it before leaning back against the exam table. Both Combeferre and Courfeyrac went to grab the pan, but Dr. Jernett beat them too it, tossing it in the garbage. "The nurses won't notice one pan missing." Dr. Jernett replied, handing Enjolras a cup of water.

"So what do we do?" Courfeyrac asked impatiently.

"Like I was saying there are a couple of options." Dr. Jernett said, "First, we can lower the dosage of chemo. Sometimes lowering the potency can stop the peripheral neuropathy. The second is spacing more time between your treatments."

"Those sound reasonable." Combeferre said nodding.

"And the last option is stopping the chemo completely."

"That's not an option." Combeferre said quickly.

"Hey guys…" Enjolras mumbled, "Remember me?"

"Of course….Enjolras it's your choice." Dr. Jernett said, "But I do agree with Combeferre. I don't think stopping the chemo at this time is a necessary or needed option." Enjolras nodded, as much as he hated chemo, he wasn't about to throw in the towel just yet. Not after everything he's been through.

"So my choices are to either lower my dosage or have more time in between treatments?" Enjolras asked, rubbing his legs. "Which do you recommend?"

"It's really your choice." Dr. Jernett replied. "Both have their pros and there cons."

"Can I think it over?" Enjolras asked tiredly. "I can't think straight right now."

"Yes, of course." Dr. Jernett said, "I'm going to send you home with some pills that will lessen your symptoms. The best thing you can do however is relax your muscles the best you can. If that doesn't work I can always set you up with a physical therapist."

"I don't want another doctor." Enjolras muttered his response almost inaudible.

"So wait a minute," Courfeyrac interjected, "This chemo caused his damage to his nerves. Is it permanent?"

"More than likely it's not. We are going to change the course of his chemo one way or another. I think we are acting quickly enough in altering his treatment there shouldn't be any permanent damage."

"Is this even normal?" Courfeyrac asked, rubbing his neck and swaying slightly. Combeferre sighed, knowing from his friend's body language he was getting worked up.

"Well, it is not abnormal." Dr. Jernett replied, "Chemo is hard on the body. It has to be to kill the cancer cells. Therefore you can expect it to do damage to other cells."

"It doesn't really sound like a great trade off." Courfeyrac snapped.

"Courf…" Combeferre said, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder, "This isn't helping. Besides, look." He motioned towards Enjolras who had fallen fast asleep. "We should probably go."

"Let him sleep." Dr. Jernett said, "I can use the other exam rooms. Just let me know when you guys are leaving."


	23. Chapter 23

**Note: Let me know what you guys think of this chapter. I feel I should have gone more in-depth, but that is what rewrites are for. I also want to say I truly appreciate the reviews I've received on my story. This is my first fanfic and I was very hesitant to post any of it at first. Thank you guys!**

* * *

Once he got home from the hospital, Enjolras found himself feeling restless and tossing and turning most of the night. His legs felt numb and somewhat painful, which was making it hard to sleep. Dr. Jernett had given him a medication to ease the symptoms, but it was taking a while for the pills to kick in.

As much as he tried he couldn't shut down his mind. It was times like these, when he was swallowed by the silence around him, did the memories of his childhood and his father come flooding back. When they were younger, one of his, Courfeyrac and Combeferre's favorite games of summer were to see who could stay under water in the pool the longest. Even though Courfeyrac always won, (with Enjolras and Combeferre both rotating for second place), Enjolras could still remember the burning feeling in his lungs as he struggled to breathe under the water. That was the only thing he could compare to the sudden wave of emotions that washed over him. Enjolras sighed, turning over on his side trying to block the memories out. His thoughts however didn't let up and eventually turned to that of his mother.

Even though it had been years, the hole of emptiness that formed in his heart the day she left him never fully healed. Sometimes even the mere thought of her was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He understood why she had run like she did, but there was a big part of him that resented her for leaving him alone to face his father on his own

When he was younger, he used to dream what life would be like if the two of them left together. By the time he was twelve he used to plead with his mother for them to leave. One time in particular stuck out in his mind. Phillip had just left for a weekend out with his friends. Of course, not before stopping and slamming Enjolras hard into the counter top. He then swung his bag over his shoulder, and walked out the door, laughing.

_"__Are you okay?" Ariane asked, going over to her son, after she made sure Phillip was gone. She had been sitting at the kitchen table watching as her husband slam her son into the table._

_"__We need to do something, Mom." Enjolras said rubbing his side, where he could already feel a bruise forming._

_ "__I'm sorry, honey." Ariane said softly, gently touching Enjolras's cheek. "But there is nothing we can do."_

_"__Yes there is." Enjolras grabbed his mother's hand, "We can get out of here. You and I both I know he treats you badly too. Come on, let's leave and we can start over somewhere."_

_"__And how would we live Enjolras?" Ariane sighed, going over to the table. She dropped into a chair and began rubbing her temples._

_"__I can get a job." Enjolras replied following her. "I don't mind working. I can help make money."_

_"__I hate when you talk like this." Ariane snapped, "You know it gets me all worked up. Your father provides us with a very comfortable life. We never have to worry about money or food."_

_"__But we aren't safe." Enjolras's voice strained with emotion, "If we left neither one of us would ever have to get hit again."_

_"__We aren't leaving."_

_"__Why?" Enjolras replied, sank down into the chair next to his mother, tears pricking his eyes mostly because he knew his pleading wouldn't result in any action. They've had this same conversation many times and it his mother always turned his idea of freedom down. "We both deserve better than this. We wouldn't have to be afraid anymore."_

_"__Enjolras, I keep telling you….You just have to stay out of your father's way. You constantly put yourself in the line of fire with him. I don't think you'd be in half the trouble with him if you just kept your distance. Just stay away from him."_

_"__Don't you think I try?" Enjolras said, trying to keep his voice from snapping. "He hates me, Mom. Please Mom, let's just leave. He'll be gone all weekend."_

_"__Enjolras, stop." Ariane hissed, practically yanked her arm away from him, "Just stop it! My God, Get a hold of yourself! If your father ever heard you talking like this…well, you know what he would do."_

Less than a year later she was gone.

He hated that her walking out the door on him was the last memory he might ever have of her. He'd do anything just to see her again. He wanted to tell her he understood why she had left…that he still loved her. He wondered what she was doing now…if she was doing okay…if she was even alive. He wondered if she was, if she ever thought of him. Most of all, he wondered if she still loved him.


	24. Chapter 24

"Good morning." Combeferre said cheerfully to Enjolras who had just stumbled into the kitchen.

"Hey." Enjolras said sleepily.

"Want some tea?" Combeferre asked, already getting up and putting on the water.

"Mmmhhmm." Enjolras said, lowering his head down, resting it on the cool table.

"Are your legs any better today?"

"A little." Enjolras closed his eyes, "They still feel a little numb."

"Have you taken the medication that Dr. Jernett gave you?" Combeferre asked, biting his nails.

"Yeah..." Enjolras said, trying not to show his annoyance. He knew Combeferre was just concerned, so he added, "I think it helped a bit."

"How'd you sleep?"

"Not great." Enjolras mumbled, "How about you?"

"I slept fine." Combeferre said, putting a plate of toast with butter in front of Enjolras, "Why didn't you sleep well?"

"Bad dreams." Enjolras decided that was the easiest way to get off the hook talking about the thoughts that consumed him the night before. He reluctantly took a piece of toast, swallowing down a wave of nausea. His stomach was still doing flips but he was hoping the toast would settle it a little. He also knew that Combeferre would nag him until he ate at least something.

"Bad dreams?" Combeferre asked, sitting down and taking a piece of toast for himself.

"You know the type." Enjolras said, glancing at Combeferre, before turning away feeling his ears begin to turn red.

It dawned on Combeferre what Enjolras meant.

When Enjolras first came to live with him, he always had nightmares. They'd start with him whimpering in his sleep. About three nights a week the whimpering would turn to blood curdling screaming. Combeferre would turn on the light and shake him awake. Enjolras would sit up, soaked to the bone, shivering and breathing hard. Claire by that point would be at least in the doorway to the boy's room. She'd then sit on Enjolras's bed, hug him tightly and remind him he was safe. Slowly Enjolras's breathing would turn to normal. Claire would sit on his bed, rubbing his back, repeating that everything was going to be okay.

Combeferre knew he still had them every once in a while, but as far as he'd knew it had been a while.

"I didn't hear you." Combeferre said, "Why didn't you wake me?"

"It wasn't that bad of one." Enjolras said, as the tea began to whistle on the stove, "I kind of just worked it out myself."

"Well, if you want to talk about it, you know I'm here." Combeferre said, getting up to pour their tea.

"I know." Enjolras sighed. He suddenly felt so drained and tired.

"I have a lot of work to do this afternoon." Combeferre continued, handling Enjolras his tea, "Do you want me to call someone to stay with you. I'll be here, but I might have to go to the library at some point."

"I should be fine." Enjolras said.

"I think I'll call someone." Combeferre stood up, "I know Courfeyrac has a huge test on Monday so he should really study. Who do you want me to call?"

"I should be fine." Enjolras said again.

"I won't bother you with Joly. I think he'll just ask you a million questions."

"That's for sure." Enjolras said, with a short laugh.

"Maybe I'll try Jehan." Combeferre said.

"I don't need anyone." Enjolras said, knowing he was saying it more to himself than to Combeferre.

* * *

About an hour later, Jehan showed up at the door with what looked like purple flowers and several books.

"Hey." He said quietly to Enjolras and nodding to Combeferre.

"I'll be in my room." Combeferre said, thanking Jehan quickly before going upstairs.

"I brought you a few gifts." Jehan said, going over to the couch where Enjolras was laying. "It's lavender and is very relaxing." He then dug in his pocket and pulled out a small packet. "These are herbs you can put in your tea. It will help boost your immune system."

"Thanks." Enjolras said softly, feeling guilty for being resentful that Jehan had agreed to come over.

"Of course." Jehan sat down next to Enjolras.

"What are the books for?" Enjolras asked, reaching out and picking one up.

"Poetry." Jehan said quietly, "I know it calms you. However, I was hoping we could talk for a while. I haven't really seen you since the night in the café."

"Yeah, I know." Enjolras automatically could feel his ears turning red. Between chemo and his medical issue yesterday, he had almost forgotten what had happened at the café. He'd forgotten that all of his friends now knew his secret.

"You don't have to talk about it." Jehan said, reaching out and touching Enjolras's hand gently, "I just want you to know, I'm sorry what you went through, but the light of your spirit even makes more sense now."

"What do you mean by the light of my spirit?" Enjolras shifted so that he could lay on the couch.

"Everyone has a spirit, or aura around them." Jehan explained softly, "Yours radiates a golden passion. Having a gold aura means you have a high level of consciousness. I always assumed it was just because you were so dedicated to your cause, but now I see it runs deeper than that. You turned your pain into empathy. I think that's the greatest gift you can give in this life. There is a great power in providing sensitivity, compassion, and courage. You went through a hardship, but you made it through. "

"Barely." Enjolras mumbled. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like I made it through."

"But you have to know you did." Jehan said, meeting Enjolras's eyes.

Enjolras shrugged.

"Just know I believe in you, Enjolras. We all do. You are strong and vibrant. You may not feel that way right now, but you are. Now, you lay back and close your eyes. I'll read to you. I brought you poems about the ocean because I know they are your favorite. I also brought some poems by Emerson. Anytime I read him, I always think of you."

Jehan began to read, his calming voice slowly but surely soothed the anxiety Enjolras had been feeling. He could feel his breathing start to relax and his eyes began to grow heavy.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Courfeyrac sitting next to him.

"What are you doing here?" Enjolras asked, confused.

"Well, good morning sunshine! Lovely to see you too!" Courfeyrac said, bringing up his leg to give Enjolras a light kick.

"I thought you had a test to study for." Enjolras said, turning and burying his face in the couch cushion.

"I studied then got bored." Courfeyrac shrugged. "I think I'm pretty solid on the stuff anyway."

Enjolras had no doubt Courfeyrac was solid on his material for his test. It used to amaze him, and quite frankly still did, how easily school and academia came to Courfeyrac. He could hear something in the beginning of the semester and remember it for the rest of the year. Where Combeferre and Enjolras would have to pour over their books, Courfeyrac would barely skim the text, walk in the next day, and be able to repeat almost word for word what the text book said. Sometimes, in fact, he even was able to explain the subject at hand better than the textbook.

"You'll get an A." Enjolras said, with a smile.

"If I do I do, if I don't I don't." Courfeyrac shrugged.

"Jehan still here?" Enjolras asked, stretching, purposely giving Courfeyrac a small jab with his heel, payback for the kick he'd received earlier.

"You just missed him." Courfeyrac replied, "He had some poetry reading to go to. By the way," Courfeyrac said, grinning, "You're very lucky you are in a fragile state because I would totally have you pinned right now."

"Pays to be ill." Enjolras said with a wink.

"You just wait till your well." Courfeyrac replied, "You're really in for it. I'm keeping notes about all of your tomfooleries."

"Only you would say tomfooleries." Enjolras said, rolling his eyes.

"It's a spectacular word." Courfeyrac said very seriously.

"Don't you have a test to study for?" Combeferre asked, coming downstairs, looking rather annoyed.

"I decided studying is overrated." Courfeyrac said, winking at Enjolras.

Combeferre just shook his head before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Someone has an attitude." Courfeyrac called out.

"You know what Courf," Combeferre snapped, coming flying back into the living room, surprising both Enjolras and Courfeyrac, "Not everything comes easy to all of us."

"Woah….." Courfeyrac said, "I was just teasing you."

"Sometimes you tease too much." Combeferre said. "Give your mouth a rest sometime will you? Now I can't remember what I even came down here for." Combeferre turned and stormed up the stairs.

"What the hell was that?" Courfeyrac asked, as the door slammed upstairs.

"I honestly have no idea." Enjolras said, "I'm going to go talk to him. He was fine this morning."

* * *

"Ferre..." Enjolras knocked on Combeferre's door, nodding at Courfeyrac who had helped him up the stairs, that he was fine.

"Come in Enj." Combeferre's voice replied.

"Are you alright?" Enjolras asked, opening the door, leaning against it slightly.

"Yeah," Combeferre rolled his chair across the room to grab a book off his shelf.

"Well, do you want to explain why you snapped out downstairs?"

"It doesn't concern you." Combeferre said, turning back to his desk. "So don't worry about it."

"Well, something is wrong..." Enjolras replied, "Do you want to talk about it? Come on, your always there for me when I need you."

"I'm really struggling with some of my courses." Combeferre said finally. "Unless it's one of my science and philosophy courses I just am not doing well. I mean, take this religion course for example, I read and reread the same things over and over again but it never sticks with me."

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" Enjolras asked, closing the door and having a seat on Combeferre's bed.

"I think it pales in comparison to what you were going through." Combeferre shrugged. He took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt.

"Just because I'm sick doesn't mean you can't have problems." Enjolras pointed out, sliding back so he could lean against the wall.

"Yeah, but complaining about getting a C on a geography paper doesn't seem that important when you're going through your chemo and everything." Combeferre's put his glasses back on, frowning slightly. "It's more than that though….Don't say anything, but Courfeyrac really has just been a little much for me to handle lately."

"What? Why?" Enjolras asked, surprised. He'd never known Combeferre to have anything bad to say about anyone (except his father and Denis of course) much less Courfeyrac.

"It's just….I don't know…It just drives me crazy that Courfeyrac wastes his potential." Combeferre tossed the pencil he was holding on his desk and sighed.

"I don't think he wastes his potential—" Enjolras began, but Combeferre cut him off.

"How could you say he doesn't waste it?" Combeferre said, almost snapping, "He doesn't study, he doesn't take anything seriously. He writes term papers in a night. Do you know what I'd do if I had his brains. I'd major in not only science, but medicine and law, or whatever else interests me. Doesn't it irritate you that things come so easy to him? And that he doesn't seem to care?"

"Maybe once in a while." Enjolras shrugged, "More so when we were younger than now."

"And it's not just school." Combeferre sighed, "Everything comes easy to him. The girls fall over him. Of course, they used to fall over you too, but you were always too driven to notice. He is never shy…he can make anyone feel comfortable. Look at how well he's related to you through your cancer."

"So have you." Enjolras said, "You're the one who gets up with me in the middle of the night, or sits with me for hours when I can't stop puking. You're the one I rely on the most. Ferre…you've done the best job anyone ever could taking care of me."

"Well, thank you…but you never laugh with me anymore. You still laugh and joke with Courfeyrac."

"It's just our relationship." Enjolras shrugged, "It's always been like that. All three of us are different with each other. Courf and I always shared a sense of humor. We pick at each other. I'm more serious with you. Just like your relationship with Courf is different than it is with me. It's always been that way."

"Maybe..." Combeferre shrugged. "Lately things have just been bothering me more than they used to."

"Well, not to throw your own advice back at you, but talk to him about it." Enjolras shrugged, "It's just going to bug you till you do."

"You're right." Combeferre sighed, "Thanks for coming up and talking to me Enj."

"Anytime." Enjolras said, giving Combeferre his best reassuring smile, "I'll leave you to your paper then."

As Enjolras closed the door behind him, he had to admit he was a little taken back by Combeferre and his conversation. For one thing, Enjolras had never really known Combeferre to struggle so much in his school. Sure, Combeferre always studied a lot, but as far as Enjolras knew, he'd always gotten A's or B's. Not knowing his best friend was having major trouble in school made him feel guilty and selfish.

He however was more shocked at Combeferre's sudden aggravation and agitation with Courfeyrac.

He'd only known him to be calm, cool, and collective in even the most difficult of situations. Growing up Combeferre had always been somewhat of an anchor for both himself and Courfeyrac. Whenever Enjolras came up with an idea and was running high on idealism and adrenaline, Courfeyrac would be reasonable and realistic. As far as Enjolras could tell, he also was able to rein Courfeyrac in from his heavy partying and balance his overprotective nature with serenity.

"Hey." Courfeyrac said, looking up from the comic book he was reading (one that he must have brought with him). "He okay?"

"I hope so." Was the only response Enjolras could think of giving.

Courfeyrac studied Enjolras for a minute before shrugging and turning back to his comic book. Enjolras went over and sat down next to him, grabbing one of the poetry books Jehan had left. He began to read, letting the beauty of the words take away the trouble he felt in his heart was brewing.


	25. Chapter 25

**Note: This was probably one of the hardest chapters I have written so far. Even though I normally identify more with Enjolras (in terms of his passion) I decided to write my own feelings through Courfeyrac's point of view. They are based off of my own friend who was abused by his father. **

**You guys have all been wonderful with your reviews and comments, but I ask of you to be understanding these are my own emotions that are written below...True guilt never truly does die.**

* * *

**Merry Christmas by the way!**

* * *

Besides his mother, Enjolras was the person Courfeyrac cared about the most in the world. Of course he loved Combeferre too, he'd known him his whole life, so how could he not, but Enjolras was the closest thing he ever had to a brother. He never knew he could feel so protective of someone who wasn't blood related. He would never forget the anger and rage he felt when he found out Enjolras's father was beating the crap out of him. He always heard when people are angry they see red. That was the color he literally remembered seeing that day. Until that point he never knew that type of life could exist, much less exist in his own life circle. And if he ever even thought that it happened, in his mind, it only happened to other people.

He hadn't had the easiest childhood. There were many times he went to bed hungry. He was aware that his mother struggled as a single parent, and had to work and be away from him more than he or she liked, but not once did he ever not feel loved. In fact outside of Combeferre and Enjolras his mother was his best friend. The majority of his childhood was spent with his mother sharing and sometimes over including him in her life. She took him everywhere from work to parties. He never remembered her raising her voice to him, much less her hand. It was hard for him to grasp the concept of a parent enjoying hitting their child like Enjolras's father seemed to.

Once he found out about the abuse, he cast himself as Enjolras's personal protector. He did everything he could think of to try to prevent the abuse from happening. He pleaded with Enjolras to tell someone to the point where, for a period of time, it seriously hurt their friendship. When Enjolras time and time again refused, he threatened to tell himself. This threat, which caused fear, rage, and anger from Enjolras's direction, silenced Courfeyrac.

To this day, he wished he would have told someone, anyone, after the unveiling in the woods that day.

A huge part of him still felt guilty that he hadn't been able to risk his friendship for Enjolras's wellbeing.

He had been selfish and immature.

He never should have agreed to keep quiet…

He'd been weak and afraid.

He should have told…

Accompanying the guilt of silence was this nagging feeling that constantly tugged at Courfeyrac's heart. It was this feeling that he had known on some level Enjolras was being abused before he _really_ knew. Looking back, there were several memories and moments where Enjolras's fear of his father was evident. Courfeyrac often wondered if he would have just been more observant and questioned Enjolras over these situations when they were younger maybe the outcome would have been different. Maybe Enjolras would have been more willing to tell someone. Maybe the abuse wouldn't have gone on for as long as it had.

Then there was a part of him that felt immense anger and blame towards the adults around them growing up. He knew that Combeferre's parents as well as his own mother witnessed interaction between Phillip and Enjolras. Even when they were little, Phillip never really hid his disdain for his son. Courfeyrac felt that if he knew on some level, the adults in the situation had to know. He never understood why no one acted on protecting Enjolras until it was thrown in their faces. They almost didn't react in his mind until they had to. Courfeyrac remembered this was the first time where he realized adults weren't perfect that they always didn't have all the answers

It was equally devastating when he first found out Enjolras has cancer. He didn't even try to shield his tears. Right away, he wished it were him. Even now, after watching the horrors Enjolras was going through, he wished it were him. He could have dealt with it better. He was bigger, stronger, and healthier to begin with. It seemed ever since they were young Enjolras was always coming down with some type of respiratory infection or sore throat. Plus, he didn't have the past to contend with. It seemed atrociously unfair to him that Enjolras would survive his father's abuse only to be then thrown into battle with an equally dangerous, deadly demon.


	26. Chapter 26

After turning in his paper (which Combeferre knew he had done poorly on) he stopped by the café so he could study for his history test that was in a few hours. He'd just sat down with a tea and opened his book when a voice spoke next to him.

"Well, you look like hell." Combeferre turned from his table in the café, to face Montparnasse, an acquaintance of both Courfeyrac and Grantaire, standing next to him.

Montparnasse was someone who Courfeyrac and Grantaire both often partied with, but neither really considered a friend. In fact, Combeferre couldn't recall a time where he'd seen either having a sober conversation with him. According to Courfeyrac they could party hard together one night, and then the next day, see one another in the café or on campus and barely acknowledge each other.

Truthfully Combeferre had never really talked to him. Neither he nor Enjolras nor he liked Montparnasse very much. Enjolras simply viewed him as a waste of time, and Combeferre considered him somewhat too dangerous to hang with. Combeferre also didn't think they had anything in common, which was why he was somewhat shocked when Montparnasse sat down in a chair next to him.

"Hey Montparnasse…" Combeferre said, rubbing his eyes, not even trying to cover how tired he was.

"You look like you haven't slept in days." Montparnasse said. Combeferre just shrugged, wondering more so why after two years Montparnasse was sitting at his table, trying to talk to him. Montparnasse pulled out a cigarette and began to light it.

"Can you please not smoke near me?" Combeferre said, sighing. Montparnasse paused, before smiling and nodding,

"Alright," He said, putting his cigarette away. "So how's Enj?"

"Fine." Combeferre frowned slightly. He didn't really feel comfortable discussing Enjolras's health status with Montparnasse.

"I heard he's pretty sick." Montparnasse replied.

"He's fine." Combeferre snapped without meaning to.

"Woah!" Montparnasse responded, laughing a little, "I was just asking. I haven't seen him around lately. Relax."

"Sorry." Combeferre apologized, "I just am really tired. I had this huge paper to write last night. I don't think I did very well."

"I would imagine you're tired." Montparnasse nodded, "You have schoolwork and classes to deal with, and it's no secret you're Enjolras's nurse maid."

"I don't mind." Combeferre said quickly, "He's my best friend. I am glad to take care of him."

"I know." The edges of Montparnasse mouth twitched slightly, "But with Enjolras out for the count and with Courf being Courf, I would imagine the burden has fallen mostly on your shoulders."

Combeferre stared at him for a second. It was somewhat strange that Montparnasse, a guy who he'd never given the time of day seemed to understand what he was feeling.

"I guess so." He said warily.

"It must be difficult to constantly keep your head up." Montparnasse continued, "You have to take care of your best friend-which I know you don't mind-but still keep your life moving. It must be hard to study after caring for Enj all day. Then you have to get up to go to class when you've been up all night because he's been throwing up."

"You seem like you know a lot about cancer." Combeferre stated.

"My cousin had it." Montparnasse shrugged, "A few years ago."

"Oh…" Combeferre said in surprise. "Umm…is your cousin okay now?"

"Yeah." Montparnasse nodded, "He made a full recovery."

"That's great." Somehow Montparnasse cousin going into remission gave him a new found hope for Enjolras to do the same.

"So, I want to bring up something to you that might make your life easier." Montparnasse began, clearing his throat. "From talking to you your stress level is evident. I can give you something that can help you get everything done you need to and still have time to take care of yourself."

"What do you mean?" Combeferre asked, confused

Montparnasse smiled, before leaning closer to Combeferre, so close he was able to whisper, "Did you ever hear of a little thing called Adderall?"

"You mean drugs!" Combeferre said loudly, causing Montparnasse to shush him.

"Yes. Actually it's not a heavy drug like heroin. I mean, doctors prescribe it."

"I know what it is…" Combeferre replied tartly, "I've read about it in one of my classes. It's for people with ADHD. I don't have ADHD."

"Well, it's good you know what it is. I'm sure you also know it can increase your wakefulness, your focus and help you get things done more effectively."

"No way." Combeferre said, standing up. He should have known Montparnasse had motives for trying to be so friendly.

"Why not?" Montparnasse asked, grabbing Combeferre by his arm, "It doesn't have to be forever. Finals are coming up. It will just get you through. Make you concentrate. Take the edge off. You'll be surprised how much energy you will have. You'll be able to do things clearer and faster."

"I think I'll pass." Combeferre said, shaking Montparnasse off of him, "I have to get home. I need to go check on Enjolras."

"Well, if you ever want a pick me up, I have something you might enjoy." Montparnasse patted his pocket before handing Combeferre a small piece of paper, "Here's my number. First hits free. Trust me… things will go much easier if you just give me the word."

* * *

Combeferre ran the entire way home. He then burst into the house, ran up the stairs, stopping short in the living room where Enjolras and Jehan (who had agreed to come over again for the morning) looked up at him in alarm.

"Ferre…" Enjolras said, pushing himself up against the back of the couch in alarm, "Are you okay? Why are you running?"

Combeferre began to explain what had just happened, but for some reason he stopped.

"I um…I just wanted to...I just wanted to get home." He finally managed. "It umm… it looks like rain."

Enjolras stared at him for a second before giving him a funny look.

"Alright." He said shrugging, glancing at Jehan.

"Yeah…." Combeferre excused himself and quickly went up to his room, shutting the door behind him. He tried to remind himself of all the conversations he and his parents have had about drugs and how he had sworn over and over to them as well as himself that he would never do them. However, all of his promises and prior reasoning not to seemed moot to the prospect of doing well on his exams. After all he would have to need to score well on them to pull his grades up. Besides, it would be nice not to have to be so tired all the time. He'd be able to not only study but be able to care for Enjolras better as well….

Sighing, he pulled the number Montparnasse had given him out of his pocket. He folded and unfolded the paper several times before he snuck into the hallway and reached for the phone.


	27. Chapter 27

Enjolras stretched out his legs, thankful for the few moments of alone time. Jehan had left to go to class and Combeferre was locked up in his room where Enjolras assumed he was studying. Courfeyrac was at class for his test so Enjolras knew he wouldn't be around until this afternoon (which was convenient because Combeferre had class then). He hadn't seen or heard from Grantaire since their talk a week ago, but that was typical. Marius hadn't been around lately. It was just as well because ever since Enjolras really physically showing he was sick, Marius acted as though he were a complete stranger. He'd sit on the couch next to Cosette, barely looking at Enjolras. The last time he came over he barely said more than ten words altogether, including hello, goodbye, and asking Enjolras how he was feeling. Enjolras couldn't really blame him. He hadn't known Marius very long prior to his getting sick. Marius and purely known him as a strong, vibrant leader, determined on solving the world's problems. Enjolras knew he was neither strong nor vibrant any longer. Joly was busy doing rotations in different hospitals, to help decide on the type of practice he eventually wanted to do. Enjolras truly didn't mind this however because Joly still tended to examine him more intently that Dr. Jernett.

He had just started to doze off when there was a knock at the door. It was so soft at first Enjolras barely heard it. Sighing he rolled over and pushed himself up. He made his way down the stairs, shivering as he felt a draft from the door.

"Cosette!" He said in shock as he opened the door.

"Hi Enjolras…." Cosette said somewhat shyly, "Umm…Can I come in?"

"Sure." Enjolras moved aside, motioning for her to come inside.

"How are you feeling?" Cosette asked, once they started to climb up the stairs.

"Okay." Enjolras breathed, trying not to show how exhausted he was from climbing just a few stairs of many.

"Do you need help?" Cosette asked, once she realized she had covered almost half the stairs he had. Without waiting for his response, she came down the stairs to where Enjolras was, wrapped her arm around his waist and helped him up the rest of the way.

"So how have your treatments been going?" Cosette asked, slipping off her coat, as they sat down together on the couch.

"I hit a small snag." Enjolras replied with a shrug, "But I'll be fine. I guess they are working."

"I'm glad to hear that." Cosette said softly, giving him a slight smile. "I always pray for you, every night." It was then Enjolras got a good look at her and realized it looked as though she'd been crying.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked.

"Marius and I broke up." She whispered.

"You what?" Enjolras asked in astonishment. The last time he heard the two of them couldn't keep their hands off of each other.

"We broke up." Cosette said again, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Why?" Enjolras asked, handing her the box of tissues from the table.

"We just look at the world differently." Cosette answered. "There are a lot of things we've disagreed about lately. He just wants me to be devoted just to him. I want to be, and I was, but there is so much more I want to experience. He gets agitated if I show interest in anything that doesn't include him or us. I want more for myself. I want to be known for something besides Marius's girlfriend."

Enjolras thought over what she had said. Truthfully he was somewhat proud of Cosette for realizing she wanted to explore the world around her. She in short wanted independence. He couldn't help but think of his mother.

"It seems like you really thought this all over." Enjolras said.

"Does it make sense at all?" Cosette asked, another tear rolling down her cheek, "Marius said that I was just making up excuses. He said there had to be someone else."

"I don't think you're making up excuses." Enjolras replied, "You sound like you know what you need in your life. Truthfully I applaud you for taking a step to find it."

"Somehow I knew you'd say that." Cosette smiled a little, wiping away her tears. "I think that's why I came here first."

"You came here first?" Enjolras asked, feeling his ears growing red. He was happy she'd come to him but he didn't think he'd be first on her list for confidants.

"Yes." Cosette nodded, "I don't know if you know this Enjolras, but I've always looked at you as a great deal of comfort. You're always so sure of what you believe in. You always are full of passion. You always push people to look outside themselves. You make us want to do more for other people."

Enjolras was more than touched. He had known that his friends always listened to him of course, but never realized the effect he had on them prior to him getting sick.

Enjolras opened his mouth to respond when Combeferre came crashing down the stairs.

"Cosette!" He said stopping short, "Hey, how's it going?"

"Okay." Cosette smiled, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear. She glanced at Enjolras, who somehow got the message she wasn't ready to tell Combeferre about her break up just yet for whatever reason.

"That's good." He gave her a smile, before looking at Enjolras, "Enj, I need to go to class early…umm Cosette can you stay for a while? Courf should be over in a bit."

"Sure." Cosette nodded, "I wanted to visit for a while anyway."

"Great." Combeferre nodded, grabbing his coat.

"Are you okay?" Enjolras asked. "You're acting strange."

"Yeah." Combeferre looked at him, nodding, "I'm fine. I just have to talk to my professor."

"Alright…" Enjolras frowned slightly. Before he could say anything else, Combeferre spun around and raced down the stairs.

"Is he okay?" Cosette asked, after they heard the front door slam. Enjolras shrugged. He had to agree Combeferre was acting somewhat strange.

"It's probably just finals." Enjolras concluded finally, "He always gets a little high strung around this time."

"So tell me about the bump in the road you hit for your treatment." Cosette said, "You sure it's not a big deal?"

Enjolras cleared his throat and began explaining to Cosette what had happened after his last treatment. Her eyes grew wide when he told her how his legs had gone numb.

"So," He said, finishing up, "Now I have to decide what I want to do treatment wise. I can either have the same strength of chemo with more time in between or a lesser dose of chemo with less time in between."

"Enjolras! That's so scary." Cosette exclaimed, "I feel awful I came to you with my problems when you're dealing with so much more."

"Don't." Enjolras shook his head, "I'm glad you talked to me."

"So, what are you leaning towards treatment wise?" Cosette asked. Enjolras could have sworn she was blushing but chalked it up to her warming up from being outside.

"I don't really know." Enjolras stretched his body slightly, "I think I'm kind of leaning towards the same strength with more time in between. I mean, I know it sucks, but at least I know how my body reacts to the higher dose. Besides…I kind of like the idea of having more time in between treatments to get my strength back."

"That sounds reasonable." Cosette nodded, "I would probably pick the same thing."

"You're easy to talk to." Enjolras stated, giving her a smile, "I'm glad you stopped over. You're welcome here anytime."

"Thank you, Enjolras." Cosette said, reaching out and quickly squeezing Enjolras's hand. She then jumped up and declaring she was going to make lunch.

Once again, Enjolras could swear she was blushing.


	28. Chapter 28

**Note: I know this chapter is shorter than most, but there are longer ones coming. Thank you everyone for your reviews! **

**Happy NEW YEAR!**

* * *

As Combeferre walked down the alley way he could feel his heart begin to race. Every instinct inside him told him to turn around and go home. Every warning he'd ever been given, or after school special he'd ever seen replayed in his head.

His parents talked to him about drugs since he was around eleven. They both told him if he was curious to come to them, and they'd discuss about it together. He'd always only half listened, knowing he had no interest and wouldn't ever have any interest in experimenting. In fact, he would have bet money on it. He'd watch Courfeyrac dabble in different things over the years-mostly consisting of marijuana or ecstasy-and never really saw the appeal.

However things haven't been easy lately. He'd been doing poorly in school for a while now. His professors showed concern, worried about the drastic change. Combeferre truthfully only half cared. It didn't mean he wasn't still trying, but with Enjolras being so sick, his focus was elsewhere. Even in class and with the slough of friends he's set up to care for Enjolras, he worried that his best friend, his brother, was going to die.

Ever since they were children, it had always been his role to be the levelheaded one. The calm one. The reasonable one. He hadn't ever really minded-after all, that was his personality, but with everything going on lately, he felt himself breaking. It was like someone found a thread that held him together and was slowly tugging at it, unraveling him. It seemed like the more he tried to hold on, the faster the stiches of thread unraveled.

"Hey." He said to the dark figured in the doorway, labeled 2381.

"I knew you'd come around." Montparnasse said turning around, with a grin, "They always do."


	29. Chapter 29

**Note: I might be adding to the beginning section of this chapter later on. Let me know what you guys think. Thank you for all your reviews!**

* * *

Combeferre raced home from his class-which he somehow managed to get through after his meeting with Montparnasse-feeling incredibly anxious. He ran up the stairs, nearly slamming into Courfeyrac who was throwing a tennis ball in the air and catching it.

"Hey." Courfeyrac said, with a huge grin, once he saw him, "There you are. How was your day?"

"Fine." Combeferre said quickly, feeling guilty about the pills in his pocket. He sank down on the couch next to Enjolras, who was reading the newest book of poetry Jehan had left for him.

"Hey." Enjolras mumbled, glancing at him quickly, obviously still engrossed in his book.

"Did you turn in your paper?" Courfeyrac asked throwing the ball in the air again and catching it.

"Yeah." Combeferre nodded, he quickly changed the subject, to Courfeyrac's test. He just didn't want to have to face the truth of how badly he did on his paper.

"Alright..." Courfeyrac shrugged, "I mean the stuff that was on it was easy. I'm not worried."

"Of course you're not." Combeferre mumbled. Enjolras glanced at him, biting his lip, frowning slightly.

"How you feeling?" Combeferre asked quickly.

Enjolras studied him for a minute before clearing his throat.

"I made a choice about my chemo." Enjoras closed his book, glancing in between both Courfeyrac and Combeferre. "I am going to stick with the same dosage with more recovery time in between treatments."

"Did you talk to Dr. Jernett?" Combeferre asked almost mechanically.

"Yeah, I called him." Enjolras subconsciously rubbed his legs, "He said he is fine with my choice. I'm scheduled for chemo tomorrow morning."

"As long as you're sure—" Combeferre began, but was cut off by Courfeyrac.

"I'm free to take you. You have class, right, Ferre?"

Combeferre nodded, sighing slightly.

Truthfully, it annoyed him that Courfeyrac was suddenly so enthusiastic about being there for Enjolras. From the start of this entire thing, Combeferre hadn't left Enjolras's side. This wasn't the case as far as he was concerned regarding Courfeyrac. For weeks after Enjolras had been was diagnosed, Courfeyrac was barely around. Combeferre understood that people react to bad news in different ways, but it bugged him that Enjolras hadn't held Courfeyrac accountable for his absence. If anything, their friendship was better than ever. Combeferre often felt like an outsider when the three of them were together.

"I'm not looking forward to it." Enjolras said, sighing.

"It'll be fine." Combeferre said, trying to push down his resentment. He reached out and patted Enjolras on his back reassuringly.

"I know it sucks." Courfeyrac cut it, "But it's one less treatment before you get better."

"Yeah, I know…." Enjolras sighed.

"Hey," Combeferre said suddenly, remembering Cosette, "Is Cosette okay? She looked pretty upset earlier."

"She and Marius broke up." Enjolras said shrugging

"What?" Courfeyrac and Combeferre both exclaimed together.

"I guess things haven't been too great for a while." Enjolras pressed his lips together, "I guess she made a choice."

"I never thought I'd see the day." Courfeyrac whistled loudly, "Well, to be truthful, good for her man. I always thought she was better than him anyway. She's way too hott. Did she say anything else?"

Enjolras shook his head, and then went back to his reading, making it clear he was going to keep whatever Cosette and he had talked about to himself.

Courfeyrac shrugged and went back to tossing his tennis ball.

Combeferre took this as an opportunity to slip upstairs. He went into his room, closed the door and locked it behind him. He sank down onto his bed, pulling out his recent purchase from Montparnasse. He studied the small blue pills, almost afraid to even open the little baggie they had been put in. Montparnasse had advised to start by taking one at a time (he'd been given five) to see how he reacted to them and to do it over the weekend (today was Thursday) so he wouldn't have to worry about classes. Combeferre's heart suddenly started to race and he felt panic stricken over what was in his hand. Part of him was tempted to go flush them down the toilet, but instead he jumped up and hid the pills in his desk drawer, slamming it shut.

* * *

The next day Courfeyrac had just brought Enjolras home from his chemo appointment and gotten him to sleep on the couch when there was knock on the door.

"I'll be back." He whispered unnecessarily to Enjolras who hadn't stirred.

"Hey..." He said, once he opened the door and saw Marius.

"Enjolras home?" Marius demanded. He shoved past Courfeyrac, not waiting for an answer and ran up the stairs. "Hey!" Marius went over to the couch where Enjolras was sleeping and kicked it hard, making him wake up with a start, "Get up!"

"What the hell is your problem?" Courfeyrac said, grabbing Marius and shoving him into the wall, "He just had chemo, man."

"I'll tell you what the problem is!" Marius said, pointing through Courfeyrac and at Enjolras, who was sitting up, still looking somewhat drowsy. "He's been hooking up with Cosette!"

"Marius…" Enjolras mumbled, rubbing his eyes, "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Marius said, trying to push Courfeyrac out of the way, "I know she's came here yesterday and stayed for a long time. It's sure in hell not to see Combeferre. She's in awe of you. She always has been."

"Calm down." Enjolras said, his brain slowly registering what Marius was talking about, "Yeah, she's come by a lot, but I promise you we haven't hooked up."

"Like hell you haven't!" Marius spat.

"She's come over just to talk." Enjolras replied surprising himself how protective he suddenly felt over Cosette. He glanced at Courfeyrac who was looking between the two and still holding Marius against the wall.

"I find that hard to believe." Marius snapped, "You're lying. She never talked to me that much. There is no way that's all you two are doing."

"Maybe it's because you never took the time to listen." Enjolras said sharply and pointedly, "You were too interested in showing her off as yours to listen to what she has to say."

"And of course you always there to listen." Marius replied, "You, our fearless leader, with your ideals of justice and equality. Tell me Enjolras, how's our golden leader doing now? How's it feel to be helpless and weak like all of those you tried to defend? You know, you might want to consider appointing someone else seeing as you probably don't have much time left."

"You bastard!" Courfeyrac flipped, slamming Marius hard into the wall, "Get the fuck out of here." Courfeyrac then dragged him down the stairs, shoving him so hard outside that Marius fell backward onto the pavement. "If you ever say anything like that to him again, I'll drop you on your ass so fast you won't know what hit you."

"Screw you, Courf!" Marius said, getting up, brushing himself off, "Tell Enjolras to watch his back. You can't always be there to protect him."

"You lay a hand on him I swear to god, I'll freakin kill you." Courfeyrac stepped out into the street, shoving Marius once again. Marius stumbled backward, but held his ground. He stood there for a second, before turning and walking away, muttering to himself. Courfeyrac slammed the door behind him, running back up the stairs. He was greeted with the vision of Enjolras, who quite obviously had finished being sick, curl up in a ball, shivering under the blanket. Courfeyrac immediately went over to the couch, and began rubbing Enjolras's arms and back until his shuddering subsided.

"Is Marius gone?" Enjolras finally managed, turning somewhat to face Courfeyrac.

"Hell yeah." Courfeyrac replied, "I kicked his ass to the curb."

"Courf…" Enjolras began, but was cut off by Courfeyrac's rage.

"I can't believe Marius. He's lucky I didn't hand him his ass just now. Who the hell does he think he is? You do know what he said to you isn't true, right? You're doing fine."

"I know." Enjolras said shuddering again.

"You guys aren't hooking up….right?" Courfeyrac asked, after a few moments of silence.

"No." Enjolras shook his head, "I promise you, we aren't. She's in need of a friend. I enjoy talking to her, but I see her like a sister, nothing more." He bit his lip, before he turned to Courfeyrac, "Can you do me a favor? Can you go find Cosette? With Marius as mad as she is, I don't really want her walking around alone. She was supposed to drop by this afternoon after looking at courses to take for school next semester in registrar's office."

"Cosette's going to take classes?" Courfeyrac asked, getting up and grabbing his coat, "That's cool."

"She wants to be a teacher." Enjolras replied, recalling a conversation they had had yesterday. "I told her she'd make a good one."

"I can see that." Courfeyrac said seriously, "Listen, I'll go see if I can find her. I'll be back in a bit."

* * *

Courfeyrac found Cosette easily. She was exactly where Enjolras guessed she'd be; sitting at a table in the registrar's office, browsing through a school catalogue. She looked up, breaking into a smile when she saw Courfeyrac.

"Hey." She said welcomingly, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to walk you to Enj's, my lady." Courfeyrac bowed slightly, giving her a smile.

"Well, you're in luck." Cosette said, standing up, "Because I'm just about done."

"You sure?" Courfeyrac asked, "I can wait."

"No, it's okay." Cosette put the catalogue into her bag, "I made an appointment for Monday to talk to a school advisor. I just wanted to be prepared."

"You people and you're being prepared." Courfeyrac said, shaking his head.

"So what did I do to get the privilege of your company?" Cosette asked, as she bundled up, buttoning up her bright blue coat.

"Can't a friend just walk another friend to another friends place?" Courfeyrac asked innocently. Then he cleared his throat, "Enjolras sent me. Marius showed up today. I guess he somehow found out you two have been spending a lot of time together….He was pretty angry about it."

"Marius doesn't have a say in what I do." Cosette replied, "I can do what I want to. However, I do appreciate the concern and the company."

"Well, come on, then." Courfeyrac replied, linking his arm with Cosette's.

* * *

When they got to the apartment, it was clear that Enjolras's chemo effects had a strong hold on him. They found him, sitting on the floor, next to his bucket, shivering.

"Enj!" Courfeyrac exclaimed running over to Enjolras. He wrapped his arms around his much paler, thinner friend, and helped him back up on the couch.

"Hey Cosette." Enjolras said softly, offering her a small smile, before leaning back against the pillow.

"Hi…." Cosette whispered, dropping her bag and walking over to him. She reached out and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Have you gotten sick a lot, man?" Courfeyrac asked, reaching out and in true Combeferre fashion, lightly brushing Enjolras's forehead, checking for a fever.

"The usual." Enjolras shrugged, rolling over on his side.

"How are your legs?" Cosette asked gently. She knelt down on the floor next to the couch, glancing at Courfeyrac, worry glimmering in her eyes.

"They're fine." Enjolras replied, "Don't worry so much. I'm okay. Besides, you had a big day…Did you get to look for your classes?"

"Yeah." Cosette nodded, "I have an appointment on Monday with an advisor for scheduling."

"That's great." Enjolras smiled again, "I'm excited for you."

"Thank you." Cosette whispered.

"You'll have to keep me posted." Enjolras managed before his eyes started to flicker with exhaustion from being sick. Within minutes he was asleep.

Courfeyrac grabbed another blanket and tossed it over Enjolras before motioning for Cosette to follow him in the kitchen.

"Is he going to be okay?" Cosette said, lingering in the hallway.

"Chemo days are always bad." Courfeyrac shrugged, "He just has to get through it. Tomorrow should be a little better. He'll still be wiped out, but hopefully won't be as sick."

"I hate seeing him like this." Cosette replied, her eyes full of tears. "I don't know what to do for him."

"Just be there." Courfeyrac shrugged, "I mean, honestly, that's what I've learned through all of this. You can't do much else besides show him you care and that you'll be there for him."

"I guess." Cosette wiped a tear away, shuddering slightly.

"Speaking of caring…" Courfeyrac began, realizing this was as good of time as any to ask the burning question that was on his mind since he'd see Marius earlier that day, "Umm…you do care for Enjolras…right?"

"Of course I do." Cosette gave him a strange look, "Why ask such a question?"

"I mean, you _care_ for him….don't you?"

Cosette frowned slightly. She looked as though she were about to cry again, then she looked at Courfeyrac, studying him for a moment or two.

"Is it that obvious?" She finally said softly.

"Kind of." Courfeyrac said, giving her a gentle smile.

"It wasn't supposed to happen…" Cosette began, "I mean, I didn't mean it to happen….It just…I just…He just is amazing to me….I just never met anyone like him in my entire life….He's brave, sensitive…caring…passionate…not to mention very _very_ handsome" Cosette blushed at that last part.

"You think our Enjolras is _handsome_?" Courfeyrac teased, nudging Cosette gently, "I've never heard that one before."

"Was he always this good looking?" Cosette asked, beginning to smile.

"Well yes…" Courfeyrac replied winking, "I do recall him being quite a strapping young lad."

Cosette burst out laughing.

"I guess you wouldn't really notice." She said, going into the kitchen the rest of the way and putting on some tea.

"So you going to tell him how you feel?" Courfeyrac asked jumped up on the counter.

"No…" Cosette shook her head, "I think it would make things really complicated."

"He's never really had a girlfriend." Courfeyrac stated, "You could always be his first."

"He's never had a girlfriend?" Cosette asked in amazement. "How's that possible?"

"I don't know." Courfeyrac shrugged, "He never seemed interested. I think he had a lot going on."

"Yeah, I heard about that…" Cosette said softly, "Umm…is it true about his dad?"

"All I can say is yes…" Courfeyrac replied, "And that it was pretty bad…but I think it's best if you hear it from him…"

"Oh, I agree." Cosette said quickly, "I just hate that it happened is all."

"Trust me…." Courfeyrac replied, "I hear you."


	30. Chapter 30

**Note: This chapter is dedicate to those of you who have been asking for our dear cynic to make another appearance. Don't worry, haven't forgotten about him:). Let me know what you guys think. Your reviews mean a lot to me :)**

* * *

Grantaire nervously paced around his apartment early Saturday morning. A few weeks had passed since he'd last seen Enjolras. Even though the two of them had had a great conversation, it caused Grantaire much anxiety. He wanted to talk to Enjolras badly, but he was also afraid of screwing up the images of their last discussion. He'd also known, from brief run-ins with Courfeyrac, Enjolras has been pretty sick. Apparently he first had a cold then had some type of bad reaction to his chemo. Knowing Enjolras the way he did (which still wasn't well at all), Grantaire figured he'd want to be left alone.

Finally, after much pacing, and an annoying diagnosis from Joly of anxiety, Grantaire left his apartment. He found himself outside Courfeyrac's doorway. He had to talk about Enjolras with someone. And he wanted it to be someone who knew him well. Someone who could perhaps give some insight how Enjolras's mind worked, or the types of things he'd liked-besides arguing about irrational topics that is. He'd never really was able to make the best conversation with Combeferre-he liked him of course-but he always felt Combeferre somehow looked down on him-so Courfeyrac was his best choice.

"Hey." Courfeyrac said, answering the door in boxers only.

"Were you sleeping? Grantaire asked, glancing down at his watch. It was eleven-thirty in the morning. He knew that even after a hang-over, Courfeyrac was up and moving by eight the next morning.

"Umm…" Courfeyrac's cheeks, turned red, "I was having a visitor…."

"Oh." Grantaire said, his own cheeks turning red, matching Courfeyrac's embarrassment.

"I can ask her to go…" Courfeyrac said, awkwardly rubbing his neck, "I mean, she has been here all night…."

"You don't have to." Grantaire said quickly.

"No…." Courfeyrac said, letting him in, "It's cool."

"Thanks." Grantaire said.

"Just wait here." Courfeyrac pointed to his couch, and then headed up the stairs. As Grantaire waited, he noticed how much more cluttered (and dusty) Courfeyrac's apartment was than Enjolras's and Combeferre's. About five minutes later Courfeyrac came down the stairs with a girl. Grantaire had never seen before. They embraced at the door, with exchanges to call one another (which Grantaire doubted on both ends) before she left.

"She seemed nice." Grantaire teased gently.

"She was. I think I'll see her again…maybe…" Courfeyrac stretched out on the floor, still only in his boxers, smiling. "So…" He said, after they sat there in an awkward silence, "You here to talk about Enjolras?"

"What?" Grantaire said quickly, almost sputtering.

"What else would you want to talk to me about?" Courfeyrac said, glancing over at Grantaire and grinning. "I'm assuming why you showed up at my house on a Saturday morning."

"I…." Grantaire tried to think of something else to bring up, but his mind was blank.

"It's okay if you like him, you know." Courfeyrac said sitting up.

"I don't like…" Grantaire began, but then he shook his head, "Okay, I guess I do kind of like him….I mean…I think I do…."

"Well, are you planning on doing anything about it?" Courfeyrac jumped up and sat next to Grantaire.

"I don't know…." Grantaire shrugged. "Half the time he seems to hate me….and the other half….he just seems like he's tolerating me."

"Well, for one, Enjolras isn't exactly the easiest guy to read. He's never really been outwardly expressive of his emotions in an affectionate sense. As intuitive as can be emotionally in regards to others, he's completely aloof when it comes to himself. I can't tell you how many people-girls as well as guys-have shown interest in him over the years. He doesn't seem to read the cues at all. I really can't figure out if he just doesn't care, or if he is that clueless."

"I can see that." Grantaire nodded. The few times he'd been out with Enjolras, he'd seen girls legitimately throw themselves at him. He didn't seem to notice, and would just continue whatever crusade he was on at that particular time. Guys constantly tried to buy him drinks. Enjolras would accept them, but then hand them off to someone else, without a second thought.

"I think he finds relationships intimidating. I mean, I'm not an expert or anything myself…but I think how he was raised has a lot to do with it. He didn't grow up in the most loving environment."

"That's an understatement." Grantaire snorted.

"So, exactly what did he tell you?" Courfeyrac asked, suddenly looking very intense, "I just want to know so I know what I can and can't say."

"I think he pretty much told me the gist of it." Grantaire shrugged, "He told me how his dad used to beat him up….how his mother left….how he ended up living with Combeferre."

"I'm surprised he talked about it." Courfeyrac sounded somewhat dumbfounded, "He'll barely talk to Ferre or me about it."

"It sounded pretty bad." Grantaire said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable (yet oddly somewhat honored).

"Oh, it was more than bad…." Courfeyrac shook his head, "I don't think more than a few days would go by without a new bruise appearing."

"Why wasn't the school involved?" Grantaire asked, frowning slightly, "Aren't they supposed to be alert to that type of stuff. I've learned in one of my classes, school officials, or anyone who works with kids, are mandated reporters…."

"Well, his father was careful where he hit him. He hardly ever hit him on his face…in fact I think Enjolras only had a black eye once, and it was from Denis….." Courfeyrac sighed, "Plus his dad was slick. He can be very charming, yet very intimidating at the same time. He was involved in a lot of our community activities. I guess no one would think that someone who did so much could be so awful. You have no idea how angry it used to make me." Courfeyrac shook his head, "And still makes me."

"Oh, somehow I can picture that." Grantaire said, giving a short laugh. "I do recall you almost biting my head off when I even asked about his father."

"Yeah…" Courfeyrac said, turning slightly red, "Sorry about that…"

"It's fine." Grantaire said, waving him off.

"But honestly, I don't know what you could do to swoon Enjolras. I don't think he's the type to fall for chocolates, flowers, or anything like that."

"Well, I'm really not the type to give chocolates or flowers, or anything like that." Grantaire replied.

"I suppose that's true." Courfeyrac said, thinking it over. "Maybe the two of you are perfect for one another…." He winked at Grantaire and grinned.

"Well, is he…umm…is he….do you know if is he even gay?"

"I don't know." Courfeyrac shrugged, "It's weird, but it's never come up. I never really thought about it. For so long the focus was on keeping Enjolras safe….now it's about getting him healthy….In between the two he was driven to make the world a fairer place…I don't think he's really had the time to figure any of it out."

"So I might totally be throwing myself out there, then?" Grantaire sighed. He somehow felt more frustrated now than before he had come over.

"Yeah, maybe…" Courfeyrac thought for a second, "I don't know….Let me prod him a bit. See what I can come up with."

"You'd do that?" Grantaire asked, somewhat in shock.

"Yeah…." Courfeyrac shrugged, "I can't guarantee anything…..but I can see if I can get a vibe off him."

"Just don't push the issue." Grantaire said, beginning to feel nervous.

"I won't…." Courfeyrac winked, "I mean, besides telling him you worship the ground he walks on, can't take your eyes off him, and act as though you'll never breathe again when he speaks to you…." Courfeyrac grinned, to show Grantaire he was just joking.

"I hope I'm not that obvious." Grantaire said, rolling his eyes.

"Only when you're drunk." Courfeyrac replied, grinning back.


	31. Chapter 31

**Note: I have begun writing a continuation to this section, but I think I might make it another chapter. If not, I'll let you guys know I added to this one.**

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From as far back as he could remember people fawned over Enjolras. Teachers always applauded his answers in class, as though Enjolras were supplying knowledge they've never heard before. When they were little and would stop by the bakery at school, the lady who worked there always gave him an extra free cookie. And like he had told Grantaire, boys and girls alike were always flirting with him. Only Enjolras could have so many people falling over him and not get a big head over it. He knew himself had a certain amount of charm and he used it to his advantage every chance he got.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Grantaire asked nervously, as they stood outside the apartment building.

"Yeah." Courfeyrac nodded, "Just be cool. Remember, he doesn't know how you feel. No reason to act all awkward."

Grantaire barely had the chance to respond when Courfeyrac opened the door and raced up the stairs.

"Do you have to always be so loud?" Combeferre snapped, greeting them at the top of the stairs, "Hey Grantaire." He said quickly, turning red, probably embarrassed for the way he had just talked to Courfeyrac.

"Hey." Grantaire waved slightly. Maybe he was crazy but he thought he felt tension between the two. "Where is Enj?" Courfeyrac asked, brushing past Combeferre, and looking into an empty living room.

"Up in his room." Combeferre sighed slightly. "He seems pretty worn out today."

"Really?" Courfeyrac frowned, glancing at Grantaire.

"It's probably from the chemo." Combeferre said unnecessarily.

"Well, we're going up to visit." Courfeyrac said, turning and began heading up the stairs, yanking Grantaire to follow him.

"Leave him alone if he's sleeping." Combeferre cautioned, "He needs his rest."

"We will." Courfeyrac whispered in a loud voice to Combeferre before he continued up the stairs.

He quietly opened Enjolras's closed door, and poked his head into the room

"Hey, Enj." Courfeyrac said, waving Grantaire onward, "It's me and Grantaire."

"Hey." A soft voice called from the bed.

"Heard you're having a tough day." Courfeyrac climbed up onto the bed and sat down next to Enjolras, giving his hand a reassuring pat.

"Yeah…." Enjolras sighed, "Hey Grantaire."

"Hi." Grantaire said, awkwardly sitting on the bed. He tried not to notice how weak Enjolras looked. His skin almost looked translucent. If he didn't know any better he could have sworn he lost even more weight since the last time he'd seen him. His blue eyes looked exhausted, and his lips were cracked and pale. Grantaire didn't know that was possible…for lips to be pale.

"What are you guys up to?" It was obvious Enjolras was trying to make small talk.

"We were just in the neighborhood." Courfeyrac responded, playing along. "You know, we figured we'd stop by. See what's new with you."

Courfeyrac's response received a smile from Enjolras.

"What's new with you Grantaire?" Enjolras asked, "It's been a while since I've seen you."

"Oh… you know…just busy with classes." Grantaire said quickly, not trying to read too much into the fact that Enjolras noticed he hadn't been around.

"Yeah, you guys have finals coming up." Enjolras nodded, as if excusing Grantaire's lack of presence.

"Worst time of the year." Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, "Is Combeferre acting all crazy yet?"

"Yeah..." Enjolras rolled his eyes, "I think he's making _me_ nervous."

"I bet." Courfeyrac smiled then turned to Grantaire, "Ever since we were little, Combeferre has driven as crazy during finals time. He paces nonstop, mutters terms over dinner, and makes quiz him on these millions of notecards he makes."

"That's intense." Grantaire replied, shaking his head, "I never let finals get to me. I mean, I'll study a bit, but not let it consume my life. I figured if I don't know it now, I am not going to know it."

"That's kind of my philosophy too." Courfeyrac reached out and slugged him hard on the arm.

"I haven't even started my term paper yet." Grantaire continued, "I mean, it's not like they really challenge us in school. What's a research paper anyway, but other people's ideas and hard work put into paragraphs with citations?"

"Good call!" Courfeyrac said, bouncing on the bed slightly, obviously happy someone else shared his view points about higher education. "Finals are basically just a way for professors to see if they taught you well enough for you to spit what you learned."

"I wish I had finals." Enjolras suddenly said softly.

"You want to study for mine?" Courfeyrac began to joke, nudging Enjolras gently. Enjolras looked like he tried to smile, but then lower lip began to shake. A single tear rolled down his cheek. "Aw….Enj…." Courfeyrac sighed, pulling his oldest friend in for a hug.

"I just want to be normal." Enjolras said, as another tear fell. He pulled away slightly, sighing.

"You will be." Courfeyrac said encouragingly, "Next year at this time you'll be complaining about having to study."

"What's normal anyway?" Grantaire added, clearing his throat.

Enjolras stared at him, and for a second Grantaire regretted speaking up, but then he smiled through his tears. "I guess that's true."

"That's a good way to think." Courfeyrac said. He mouthed a quick thank you to Grantaire, who was doing everything possible to keep from blushing. Luckily for him, Combeferre poked his head into the room,

"Enj…." He said, walking over to the bed, "Umm…there's a phone call for you."

"A phone call?" Enjolras looked somewhat confused as he took the phone from Combeferre.

"Hello?" Enjolras suddenly went ghost white. He opened and closed his mouth, not saying anything. The hand he was using to hold the phone began to shake.

"Who's on the phone?" Courfeyrac said, roughly grabbing the phone from Enjolras. "Who'd this?" He demanded then turned beet red, almost as if he were offsetting Enjolras's white.

"Listen to me, you jackass." Courfeyrac snapped. "Don't you dare ever even think of calling here again!" He clicked the phone off before tossing it on the bed.

"What the hell, Ferre!" He snarled turning to Combeferre who was looking as equally confused as Grantaire felt.

"Who was on the phone?" Combeferre asked, sounding more than frustrated.

"My father." Enjolras barely was able to choke out his response.

"What!" Combeferre couldn't control the panic in his voice, "Your father!" He glanced worriedly at Courfeyrac who was fuming, "What did he say?"

Enjolras's only response was to curl in a ball and pull the covers up over his head.

"Enj…" Combeferre began.

"I want to be alone." Enjolras's voice was barely audible under the covers.

"Let him be." Courfeyrac said, rather roughly, "He just had a major scare." He got up and stormed out of the room, stopping to tell Enjolras they'd be downstairs if he needed them.


End file.
